~1 


Mi 


«. 

The  Court  of 
Boyville 

By 

William  Allen  White 

AUTHOR   OF  THE   REAL  ISSUE,    ETC. 


New  York 

Grosset  &   Dunlap 
Publishers 


Copyright,  1898,  1899 
BY  S.  S.  McCLURE  COMPANY 

Copyright,  1899 
BY  WILLIAM  ALLEN  WHITE 

Copyright,  1910 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 


First  printed  elsewhere.     Reprinted  December,  1910; 
June,  September,  1911  ;  March,  1912. 


Norfoootr 
Berwick  &  Smith  Co.,  Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


PS  3 
& 

'/O 


Contents 

PACK 

PROLOGUE xvii 

THE  MARTYRDOM  OF  "MEALY"  JONES  3 

A  RECENT  CONFEDERATE  VICTORY    .  47 

"WHILE  THE  EVIL  DAYS  COME  NOT"  .  107 

JAMES  SEARS:  A  NAUGHTY  PERSON    .  181 

MUCH   POMP    AND   SEVERAL   CIRCUM 
STANCES      ....  259 

"THE   HERB  CALLED    HEARTS-EASE"  351 


249017 


Where  is  Boyville  ?     By  what  track 
May  we  trace  our  journey  back ; 
Up  what  mountains,  thro   what  seas, 
By  what  meadow-lands  and  leas, 
Must  we  travel  to  the  bourne 
Of  the  shady  rows  of  corn 
That  lead  down  to  the  Willows 
Where  the  day  is  always  morn  ? 


COURT    OF    BOYVILLE 


Illustrated  by  ORSON  LOWELL  (with  the  exception 
of  the  first  story,  the  illustrations  for 
are  by  GUSTAV  VERBEEK). 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  Say,  boys,  where  's  its  bottle  ?  "  .  Frontispiece 
The  three  boys  were  scuffling  for  the  possession  PAGS 

of  a  piece  of  rope 9 

He  saw  Abe  catch  Jimmy  and  hold  his  head 

under  water 15 

He  felt  his  father's  finger  under  his  collar  and 

his  own  feet  shambling 31 

Mrs.  Jones  stooped  to  the  floor  and  took  her 

child  by  an  arm 37 

His  feet  hanging  out  of  the  back  of  the  wagon 

that  had  held  the  coffin 49 

His  luck  was  bad 53 

He  withdrew  from  the  game  and  sat  alone 

against  the  barn 57 

As  she  turned  to  her  turkey-slicing  ...  61 
The  new  preacher,  for  whom  the  party  was 

made 65 

The  first  long  dress 73 

"  Dickey,  Dickey,  for  gracious  sake,  keep 

still" 77 

"  Did  you  know  my  dad  was  a  soldier  ?  "  .  8 1 
xi 


Illustrations 


During  the  next  two  hours  the  boy  wandered 

on  the  prairie 85 

"  Mary  Pennington,  aged  two  years,  three 

months,  and  ten  days" 89 

Piggy  went  to  get  his  flying  hat 93 

She  stroked  his  hand  and  snuggled  closer  to 

him 97 

Miss  Morgan  smiled  happily  at  the  clouds  .  IOI 
Chased  the  little  girls  around  the  yard  with  it  .  109 
She  would  not  have  invited  Harold  Jones  to 

sit  and  sing  with  her  during  the  opening 

hour 113 

Harold  Jones 117 

To  study  his  tastes 121 

.  .  .  The  comradeship  .  .  .  was  beautiful  to  see  125 

The  red-headed  Pratt  girl 129 

He  could  only  snap  chalk  in  a  preoccupied 

way  and  listen  to  his  Heart's  Desire  .  .  133 
Piggy  was  piling  up  the  primary  urchins  in 

wiggling,  squealing  piles 137 

He  watched  the  teacher's  finger  crook  a  signal 

for  the  note  to  be  brought  forward  .  .  .  141 
• . .  fought  boys  who  were  three  classes  above 

him  . . .  whipped  groups  of  boys  of  assorted 

sizes 145 

Over  his  mother's  shoulders  Piggy  saw  the  hired 

girl  giggle 1 49 

Her  son  ate  rapidly  in  silence  .  .  .  .  .  153 
xii 


Illustrations 


PACK 

His   cleanliness   pleased   his   mother  and   she 

boasted  of  it  to  the  mothers  of  other  boys  157 
A  little  maid  in  a  black-and-red  check  .  .  .  161 
Piggy  sat  on  the  front  porch,  and  reviewed  the 

entire  affair 165 

It  began  when  his  Heart's  Desire  had  fluttered 

into  his  autograph  album 169 

At  this  important  bit  of  repartee  .  .  .  .  173 

His  heart  was  full  of  bitterness 183 

Throwing  sticks  in  the  water  to  scare  the  fish  187 
A  crawler,  a  creeper,  a  toddler,  a  stumbler, 

and  a  sneaker 191 

James 195 

Mrs.  Jones  came  out  to  take  care  of  the  butter  1 99 
The  sort  of  boy  who  would  unsex  himself  by 

looking  at  a  baby 203 

Jimmy  heard  Mrs.  Jones  tell  his  little  sister 

Annie  that  morning  that  she  was  no  longer 

the  baby 207 

His  father  strutting  around  town  .  .  .  bragging 

of  the  occurrence  that  filled  the  boy  with 

shame 211 

He  jumped  for  the  slanting  boards  with  his  bare 

feet,  and  his  heart  was  glad 215 

He  sat  on  a  log  and  slowly  lifted  up  his  foot, 

twisting  his  face  into  an  agonized  knot  .  219 
"Spit,  spit,  spy,  tell  me  whur  my  chicken 

is,  er  I'll  hit  ye  in  the  eye  "  ....  223 
xiii 


Illustrations 


"  I  '11  pay  for  your  chicken,  I  say.    Now  you 

keep  away  from  me  " 229 

An  irregular  circumference  that   touched   his 

ears  and  his  chin  and  his  hair  .  .  .  .  239 
"  Got  anything  here  fit  to  eat  ?  ' '  .  .  .  .  243 
"  What  'd  you  want  to  take  Annie's  doll  away 

from  her  for?" 247 

She  drew  him  down  and  kissed  his  cheek  while 

he  pecked  at  her  lips 251 

Piggy  Pennington  .  .  .  galloped  his  father's 

fat  delivery  horse  up  and  down  the  alley  255 
Mammoth  Consolidated  Shows  ...  262,  263 
Oil  made  by  hanging  a  bottle  of  angle-worms 

in  the  sun  to  fry 269 

How  many  bags  of  carpet  rags  went  to  the 

ragman 275 

Brother  Baker  —  a  tiptoeing  Nemesis  .  .  .  279 
Dressed-up  children  were  flitting  along  the  side 

streets,  hurrying  their  seniors  ....  283 
The  Balloon- Vender  wormed  his  way  through 

the  buzzing  crowd,  leaving  his  wares  in  a 

red  and  blue  trail  behind  him  .  .  .  .  289 
The  Blue  Sash  about  the  country  girl's  waist 

and  the  flag  in  her  Beau's  hat  .  .  .  .  293 
"  One 's  a  trick  elephant.  You  'd  die  a-laugh- 

ing  if  you  saw  him  " 299 

"It's  an  awful  good  one.  Can't  he  go  just 

this  once?" ,     •     .     303 

xiv 


Illustrations 


8  Funny  Clowns — count  them  8  .  .  308,  309 
"  Well,  son,  you  're  a  daisy.  They  generally 

drop  the  first  kick  " 315 

The  other  wranglers  .  .  .  dropped  out  for 

heavy  repairs 321 

When  Mr.  Pennington's  eyes  fell  on  Bud,  he 

leaned   on    a  show-case  and  laughed   till 

he  shook  all  over 325 

"  Miss  Morgan,  I  just  want  you  to  look  at 

my  boy  " 329 

"Now,  Henry,  don't  ever  have  anything  to 

do  with  that  kind  of  trash  again  "  .  .  333 
"  Here 's  a  dollar  I  got  for  ridin'  the  trick 

mule  ...  I  thought  it  would  be  nice  for 

the  missionary  society  " 337 

r*  Gee,  we  're  going  to  have  pie,  ain't  we  "  .  341 


xv 


who  are  passing 
"through  the  wilder 
ness  of  this  world"  jind  it 
difficult  to  realize  what  an 
impenetrable  wall  there  is 
around  the  town  of  Boyville. 
Storm  it  as  we  may  with  the 
simulation  of  light-hearted- 
ness,  bombard  it  with  our 
heavy  guns,  loaded  with  fish 
ing-hooks  and  golf-sticks ,  and 
skates  and  base-balls,  and 
butterfly-nets,  the  walls  re 


XVli 


main.  If  once  the  clanging 
gates  of  the  town  shut  upon 
a  youth,  he  is  banished  for 
ever.  From  afar  he  may 
peer  over  the  walls  at  the 
games  inside,  but  he  may  not 
be  of  them.  Let  him  try  to 
join  them,  and  lo,  the  games 
become  a  mockery,  and  he 
finds  that  he  is  cavorting 
still  outside  the  walls,  while 
the  good  citizens  inside  are 
making  sly  sport  of  him. 
Who,  being  recently  banished 
from  Boyville,  has  not  sought 
to  return  ?  In  vain  does  he 
haunt  the  swimming  hole ; 
the  water  elves  will  have 


XV1U 


none  of  him.  He  hushes 
their  laughter,  muffles  their 
calls,  takes  the  essence  from 
their  fun,  and  leaves  it  dust 
upon  their  lips. 

But  we  of  the  race  of 
grown-ups  are  ct  purblind 
people.  Otherwise,  when  we 
acknowledge  what  a  strong 
hold  this  Boyville  is,  we  the 
banished  would  not  seek  to 
steal  away  the  merry  towns 
men,  and  bruise  our  hearts 
and  theirs  at  our  hopeless 
task.  We  have  learned  many 
things  in  our  schools,  and  of 
the  making  of  books  there 
has  been  no  end;  so  it  is  odd 


XIX 


that  we  have  not  learned  to 
let  a  boy  be  a  boy.  Why  not 
let  him  feel  the  thrill  from 
the  fresh  spring  grass  under 
his  feet,  as  his  father  felt  it 
before  him,  and  his  father  s 
father,  even  back  to  Adam, 
who  walked  thus  with  God! 
There  is  a  tincture  of  iron 
that  seeps  into  a  boys  blood 
with  the  ozone  of  the  earth, 
that  can  come  to  him  by  no 
other  way.  Let  him  run  if  ' 
he  will ;  Heavens  air  is  a 
better  eli%ir  than  any  that 
the  alchemist  can  mix.  IV hat 
if  he  roams  the  woods  and 
lives  for  hours  in  the  water? 

XX 


What  if  he  prefers  the  barn 
to  the  parlor  ?  What  if  he 
fights?  Does  he  not  take 
the  risk  of  the  scratched  face 
and  the  bruises  ?  Should 
he  not  be  in  some  measure 
the  judge  of  the  situation 
before  him  when  the  trouble 
begins  ?  Boys  have  an  ugly 
name  for  one  of  their  kind 
who  discovers  suddenly,  in  a 
crisis  of  his  own  making,  that 
he  is  not  allowed  to  fight. 
And  it  were  better  to  see  a 
boy  with  a  dozen  claw-marks 
down  his  face  than  to  see 
him  eat  that  name  in  peace. 
Now  this  conclusion  may 


XXI 


seem  barbaric  to  elders  who 
have  to  pay  for  new  clothes 
to  replace  the  torn  ones. 
And  according  to  their  light 
perhaps  the  elders  see  clearly. 
But  the  grown-up  people  for 
get  that  their  wisdom  has 
impaired  their  vision  to  see 
as  boys  see  and  to  pass  judg 
ment  upon  things  in  another 
sphere. 

For  Boymlle  is  a  Free 
Town  in  the  monarchy  of 
the  world.  Its  citizens  mind 
their  own  business,  and  they 
desire  travellers  in  this  waste 
to  do  likewise.  The  notion 
that  spectacled  gentry  should 

xxii 


come  nosing  through  the 
streets  and  alleys  of  Boy* 
mile,  studying  the  sanitation, 
which  is  not  of  the  best,  and 
objecting  to  the  constitution 
and  by  laws,  —  which  were 
made  when  the  rivers  were 
dug  and  the  hills  piled  up^ 
—  the  notion  of  an  outsider 
interfering  with  the  Divine 
right  of  boys  to  eat  what 
they  please,  to  believe  what 
they  please,  and,  under  loy 
alty  to  the  monarchy  of  the 
world,  to  do  what  they  please, 
is  repugnant  to  this  free 
people.  Nor  does  it  better 
matters  when  the  man  be- 

xxiii 


hind  the  spectacles  explains 
that  to  eat  sheep-sorrel  is 
deleterious  ;  tofeedyounkers 
Indian  tiirnip  is  cruel ;  to 
suck  the  sap  of  the  young 
grapevine  in  spring  produces 
malaria ;  to  smoke  rattan 
is  depraving,  and  to  stuff 
ones  stomach  with  paw-paws 
and  wild-grapes  is  dangerous 
in  the  extreme. 

For  does  not  the  first  arti 
cle  of  the  law  of  this  Free 
Town  expressly  state,  that 
boys  shall  be  absolved  from 
obeying  any  and  all  laws 
regulating  the  human  stom 
ach,  and  be  free  of  the  pen- 


XXIV 


alties  thereto  attacking  ? 
And  again  when  IVisdom 
says  that  the  boy  shall  give 
up  his  superstitions,  the  boy 
points  to  hoary  tradition, 
which  says  that  the  snake  s 
tail  does  not  in  fact  and  in 
tmth  die  till  sundown  ;  that 
if  a  boy  kills  a  lucky  bug 
he  shall  find  a  nickel ;  that 
to  cross  ones  heart  and  lie, 
brings  on  swift  and  horrible 
retribution  ;  that  letting  the 
old  cat  die  causes  death  in 
the  family  ;  that  to  kill  a 
toad  makes  the  cow  give 
bloody  milk  ;  that  horsehairs 
in  water  turn  to  snakes  in 


XXV 


nine  days  ;  that  spitting  on 
the  bait  pleases  the  fish,  and 
that  to  draw  a  circle  in  the 
dust  around  a  marble  charms 
it  against  being  hit.  What 
tradition,  ancient  and  hon 
orable  in  Boyville,  declares 
is  true,  that  is  the  Law 
everlasting,  and  no  wise 
mans  word  shall  change 
the  law  one  jot  nor  one  tittle. 
For  in  the  beginning  it  was 
written,  to  get  in  the  night 
wood,  to  eat  with  a  fork  at 
table,  to  wear  shoes  on  Sun 
day,  to  say  "  sir "  to  com 
pany,  and  "  thank  you  "  to 
the  lady,  to  go  to  bed  at  nine. 


XXVI 


fO  remember^  that  there  are 
others  who  like  gravy,  to 
stay  out  of  the  water  in  dog 
days,  to  come  right  straight 
home  from  school,  to  shinny 
on  your  own  side,  and  to 
clean  those  feet  for  Heaven's 
sake,  —  that  is  the  whole 
duty  of  boys.  As  it  was  in 
the  beginning,  so  it  shall  be 
ever  after. 

Now  most  of  us  grown-ups 
do  not  admit  these  things, 
and  not  being  able  to  speak 
the  language  of  the  people 
whose  rights  we  are  seeking 
to  destroy,  we  will  never 
know  how  utterly  futile  are 

&  xxvii 


our  conspiracies.     But  that 
is   immaterial. 

The  main  point  that  the 
gentle  reader  should  bear  in 
mind  is  this:  The  town  of 
Boyville  is  free  and  inde 
pendent ;  governed  only  by 
the  ancient  laws,  made  by 
the  boys  of  the  elder  days  — 
by  the  boys  who  found  bot 
tom  in  the  rivers  that  flowed 
out  of  Eden  ;  by  little  Seth, 
little  Enoch,  little  Methu 
selah,  and  little  Noah  ;  by 
the  boys  who  threw  mud 
balls  from  willow  withes 
broken  from  trees  whereon 
David  hung  his  harp  a 


XXVlll 


thousand  years  thereafter. 
For  Boyville  was  old  when 
Nineveh  was  a  frontier 
post. 

Boymlle  hears  from  afar 
the  buzz  about  principali 
ties  and  powers,  the  clatter 
of  javelins  and  the  clash  of 
arms,  the  hubbub  of  the 
"pride  and  pomp  and  cir 
cumstance  of  glorioiis  war.19 
The  courtiers  of  Boymlle 
cheer  for  each  new  hero,  and 
claim  fellowship  with  all 
"  like  gentlemen  unafraid!' 
But  the  Free  Town  has  its 
own  sovereign,  makes  its 
own  idols.  And  the  clatter 

XXIX 


and  clash  and  hubbub  that 
attend  the  triumphs  of  the 
kingdoms  of  the  earth  pass 
by  unconquered  Boymlle  as 
the  shadow  of  a  dream. 


XXX 


THE    MARTYRDOM    OF   "MEALY 
JONES 


A  WAIL  IN   B  MINOR 

Oh,  what  has  become  of  the  ornery  boy, 

Who  used  to  chew  slip'ry   elm,  "rosum"    and 
wheat : 

And  say  "  jest  a  coddin*  "  and  "  what  d'ye  soy  ;  " 
And  wear  rolied-up  trousers  all  out  at  the  seat  f 

And  where  is  the  boy  who  had  shows  in  the  barn, 
And  "  skinned  a  cat  backards  "  and  turned  "  sum 
mersets  ;  " 

The  boy  who  had  faith  in  a  snake-feeder  yarn, 
And  always   smoked   grape  vine  and  corn   ciga 
rettes  ? 

Where  now  is  the  small  boy  who  spat  on  his  bait, 
And  proudly  stood  down  near  the  foot  of"  the  class, 

And  always  went  "  barefooted  "  early  and  late, 
And  washed  his  feet  nights  on  the  dew  of  the  grass  ? 

Where  is  the  boy  who  could  swim  on  his  back, 
And  dive  and  tread  water  and  lay  his  hair,  too  ; 

The  boy  who  would  jump  off  the  spring-board  ker- 

whack, 
And  light  on  his  stomach  as  I  used  to  do  ? 

Oh  where  and  oh  where  is  the  old-fashioned  boy  ? 
Has  the  old-fashioned  boy  with  his  old-fashioned 
ways, 

Been  crowded  aside  by  the  Lord  Fauntleroy,  — 
The  cheap  tinselled  make-believe,  full  of  alloy 
Without  the  pure  gold  of  the  rollicking  joy 

Of  the  old-fashioned  boy  in  the  old-fashioned  days  ? 


IS  mother  named  him 
Harold,  and  named  him 
better  than  she  knew.  He  was  just 
such  a  boy  as  one  would  expect  to 
see  bearing  a  heroic  name.  He  had 
big,  faded  blue  eyes,  a  nubbin  of  a 
chin,  wide,  wondering  ears,  and 
freckles  —  such  brown  blotches  of 
freckles  on  his  face  and  neck  and 
hands,  such  a  milky  way  of  them 
across  the  bridge  of  his  snub  nose, 
that  the  boys  called  him  "  Mealy." 
And  Mealy  Jones  it  was  to  the  end. 
When  his  parents  called  him  Harold 
3 


The  Court  of  Boy  ville 


n  the  hearing  of  his  playmates,  the 
boy  was  ashamed,  for  he  felt  that 
a  nickname  gave  him  equal  stand 
ing  among  his  fellows.  There  were 
times  in  his  life  —  when  he  was 
alone,  recounting  his  valorous  deeds 

-that  Mealy  more  than  half  per 
suaded  himself  that  he  was  a  real 
boy.  But  when  he  was  with 
\\  infield  Pennington,  surnamed 
"  P*£&y "  *n  the  court  of  Boyville, 
and  Abraham  Lincoln  Carpenter, 
similarly  knighted  "Old  Abe," 
Mealy  saw  that  he  was  only  Har 
old,  a  weak  and  unsatisfactory  imi 
tation.  He  was  handicapped  in 
his  struggle  to  be  a  natural  boy  by 
a  mother  who  had  been  a  "  perfect 

little    ladv "    in    her    <nrlhood     and 
/  c> 

\vho  was  moulding  her  son  in   the 

forms    that    fashioned     her.       If  it 

were    the    purpose    of   this    tale   to 

4 


The  Martyrdom  of  "  Mealy  Jones  " 

deal  in  philosophy,  it  would  be 
easy  to  digress  and  show  that  Mealy 
Jones  was  a  study  in  heredity ;  that 
from  his  mother's  side  of  the  house 
he  inherited  wide,  white,  starched 
collars,  and  from  his  father's  side,  a 
burning  desire  to  spit  through  his 
teeth.  But  this  is  only  a  simple 
tale,  with  no  great  problem  in  it, 
save  that  of  a  boy  working  out  his 
salvation  between  a  fiendish  lust  for 
suspenders  with  trousers  and  a  long- 
termed  incarceration  in  ruffled 
waists  with  despised  white  china 
buttons  around  his  waist-band. 

No  one  but  Piggy  ever  knew 
how  Mealy  Jones  learned  to  swim; 
and  Harold's  mother  doesn't  con 
sider  Piggy  Pennington  any  one, 
for  the  Penningtons  are  Methodists 
and  the  Joneses  are  Baptists,  and 
very  hard-shelled  ones,  too.  How- 

£ 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


ever,  Mealy  Jones  did  learn  to  swim 
"  dog- fashion "  years  and  years  after 
the  others  had  become  post-gradu 
ates  in  aquatic  lore  and  could  "  tread 
water,"  "swim  sailor-fashion,"  and 
"  lay  "  their  hair.  Mrs.  Jones  per 
mitted  her  son  to  go  swimming 
occasionally,  but  she  always  exacted 
from  him  a  solemn  promise  not  to 
go  into  the  deep  water.  And  Har 
old,  who  was  a  good  little  boy, 
made  it  a  point  not  to  "let  down" 
when  he  was  beyond  the  "step-off." 
So  of  course  he  could  not  know 
how  deep  it  was;  although  the  bad 
little  boys  who  "  brought  up  bot 
tom  "  had  told  him  that  it  was 
twelve  feet  deep. 

One   hot  June   afternoon    Mealy 
stood    looking    at   a   druggist's    dis 
play    window,    gazing    idly    at    the 
pills,  absently  picking  out  the  vari- 
6 


The  Martyrdom  of  "  Mealy  "  Jones 

ous  kinds  which  he  had  taken. 
He  had  just  come  from  his  mother 
with  the  expressed  injunction  not 
to  go  near  the  river.  His  eyes 
roamed  listlessly  from  the  pills  to 
the  pain-killer,  and,  turning  wearily 
away,  he  saw  Piggy  and  Old  Abe 
and  Jimmy  Sears.  The  three  boys 
were  scuffling  for  the  possession  of 
a  piece  of  rope.  Pausing  a  moment 
in  front  of  the  grocery  store, 
they  beckoned  for  Mealy.  The 
lad  joined  the  group.  Some  one 
said,  — 

"Come  on,  Mealy,  and  go  swim- 


minY' 


,  "Aw,  Mealy  can't  go,"  put  in 
Jimmy;  "his  ma  won't  let  him." 

"Yes,  I  kin,  too,  if  I  want  to," 
replied  Mealy,  stoutly  —  but,  alas  ! 
guiltily. 

"Then  come  on,"  said  Piggy 
7 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


Pennington.  "You  don't  dast. 
My  ma  don't  care  how  often  I  go 
in  —  only  in  dog  days/' 

After  some  desultory  debate  they 
started  —  the  four  boys  —  pushing 
one  another  off  the  sidewalk, 
"  rooster-fighting/'  shouting,  laugh 
ing,  racing  through  the  streets. 
Mealy  Jones  longed  to  have  the 
other  boys  observe  his  savage  be 
havior.  He  knew,  however,  that 
he  was  not  of  them,  that  he  was 
a  sad  make-believe.  The  guilt  of 
the  deed  he  was  doing,  oppressed 
him.  He  wondered  how  he  could 
go  into  crime  so  stolidly.  Inwardly 
he  quaked  as  he  recalled  the  stories 
he  had  read  of  boys  who  had 
drowned  while  disobeying  their 
parents.  His  uneasiness  was  in 
creased  by  the  ever-present  sense 
that  he  could  not  cope  with  the 
8 


*The  three  boys  'were  scuffling  for  the  possession 
of  a  piece  of  rope. 


The  Martyrdom  of"  Mealy"  Jones 

other  boys  at  their  sports.  He  let 
them  jostle  him,  and  often  would 
run,  after  his  self-respect  would  goad 
him  to  jostle  back.  Mealy  was 
glad  when  the  group  came  to  the 
deep  shade  of  the  woods  and  walked 
slowly. 

It  was  three  o'clock  when  the 
boys  reached  the  swimming-hole. 
There  the  great  elm-tree,  with  its 
ladder  of  exposed  roots,  stretched 
over  the  water.  Piggy  Pennington, 
stripped  to  the  skin,  ran  whooping 
down  the  sloping  bank,  splashed 
over  the  gravel  at  the  water's  edge, 
and  plunged  into  the  deepest  water. 
Old  Abe  followed  cautiously,  bath 
ing  his  temples  and  his  wrists  before 
sousing  all  over.  Jimmy  Sears 
threw  his  shirt  high  up  on  the  bank 
as  he  stood  ankle-deep  in  the  stream. 
Piggy's  exhilaration  having  worn 


ii 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


off  by  this  time,  he  picked  up  a 
mussel-shell  and  threw  it  at  Jimmy's 
feet.  The  water  dashed  wide  of  its 
mark  and  sprinkled  Mealy,  who  was 
sitting  on  a  log,  taking  off  his  shoes. 

"  Here,  Piggy,  you  quit  that," 
said  Mealy. 

Jimmy  said  nothing.  He  sprang 
into  the  air  head  foremost  toward 
Piggy,  who  dived  from  sight.  His 
pursuer  saw  the  direction  Piggy 
took  and  followed  him.  The  boys 
were  a  few  feet  apart  when  Jimmy 
came  to  the  surface,  puffing  and 
spouting  and  shaking  the  water 
from  his  eyes  and  hair.  He  hesi 
tated  in  his  pursuit.  Piggy  observed 
the  hesitation,  and  with  a  quick 
overhand  movement  shot  a  stinging 
stream  of  water  from  the  ball  of  his 
hand  into  his  antagonist's  face. 
Then  Piggy  turned  on  his  side  and 


12 


The  Martyrdom  of  "  Mealy  "  Jones 

swam  swiftly  to  shallow  water, 
where  he  stood  and  splashed  his  vic 
tim,  who  was  lumbering  toward 
shore  with  his  eyes  shut,  panting 
loudly.  With  every  splash  Piggy 
said,  "How's  that,  Jim?"  or  "Take 
a  bite  o'  this/*  or  "  Want  a  drink  ?  " 
When  Jimmy  got  where  he  could 
walk  on  the  creek  bottom,  he  made 
a  feint  of  fighting  back,  but  he  soon 
ceased,  and  stood  by,  gasping  for 
breath,  before  saying,  "  Let 's  quit." 
Then  followed  the  fun  of  duck 
ing,  the  scuffling  and  the  capers  of 
the  young  human  animals  at  play  — 
at  play  even  as  gods  in  the  elder 
days.  Mealy  saw  it  all  through 
envious  eyes  and  with  a  pricking 
conscience,  as  he  doggedly  fumbled 
the  myriad  buttons  which  his 
mother  had  fastened  upon  his  pretty 
clothes.  He  heard  Piggy  dare  Abe 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


across  the  creek,  and  call  him  a 
cowardly  calf,  and  say,  "Any  one  't 
'ull  take  a  dare  '11  steal  sheep." 
Mealy  saw  Jimmy  grin  as  he 
cracked  rocks  under  water  while  the 
other  boys  were  diving,  and  watched 
Old  Abe,  as  he  made  the  waves  rise 
under  his  chin,  swimming  after  the 
fleeing  culprit.  He  saw  Abe  catch 
Jimmy  and  hold  his  head  under 
water  until  Mealy's  smile  faded  to  a 
horrified  grin.  Then  he  saw  the 
victim  and  the  victor  come  merrily 
to  the  shallows,  laughing  as  though 
nothing  unusual  had  occurred.  It 
was  high  revel  in  Boyville,  and  thq 
satyrs  were  in  the  midst  of  their 

joy- 
Then     Mealy    heard    Piggy   say, 

"Aw,  come  in,  Mealy;  it  won't 
hurt  you." 

"  Is  it  cold  ? "  asked  Mealy. 
14 


tp,-p(pPC 
"  ifif.wvo 


Jimmy  and  hold  his  head  under  water 


The  Martyrdom  of"  Mealy"  Jones 

"  Naw,"  replied  Piggy. 

"  Naw,  course  it  ain't,"  returned 
Jimmy. 

"Warm  as  dish-water,"  cried 
Abe. 

Mealy's  ribs  shone  through  his 
skin.  His  big  milky  eyes  made 
him  seem  uncanny,  standing  there 
shivering  in  the  shade.  He  hobbled 
down  the  pebbly  bank  on  his  tender 
feet,  his  bashful  grin  breaking  into 
a  dozen  contortions  of  pain  as  he 
went.  The  boys  stood  watching 
him  like  tigers  awaiting  a  Christian 
martyr.  He  paused  at  the  water's 
edge,  put  in  a  toe  and  jerked  it  out 
with  a  spasm  of  cold. 

"  Aw,  that  ain't  cold,"  said  Piggy. 

"Naw,  when  you  get  in  you 
won't  mind  it,"  insisted  Abe. 

Mealy  replied,  "  Oo,  oo  !  I  think 
that 's  pretty  cold." 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


"  Wet  your  legs  and  you  won't 
get  the  cramp,"  advised  Jimmy 
Sears. 

Mealy  stooped  over  to  scoop  up 
some  water  in  his  hands.  He  heard 
the  boys  laugh,  and  the  next  instant 
felt  a  shower  of  water  on  his  back. 
It  made  the  tears  come. 

"  Uhm-m-m  —  no  fair  splashing" 
he  whined. 

Mealy  put  one  foot  in  the  water 
and  drew  it  out  quickly,  gasping, 
"  Oo !  I  ain't  goin'  in.  It 's  too 
cold  for  me.  It  11  bring  my  measles 
out."  He  started  —  trembling  —  up 
the  bank ;  then  he  heard  a  splashing 
behind  him. 

"  Come  back  here,"  cried  Piggy, 
whose  hands  were  uplifted ;  "  come 
back  here  and  git  in  this  water  or 
I  11  muddy  you."  Piggy's  hands 
were  full  of  mud.  He  was  about 
is 


The  Martyrdom  of"  Mealy  "  Jones 

throw  it  when  the  Jones  boy 
pretended  to  laugh  and  giggled, 
"Oh,  I  was  just  a-foolin'." 

But  he  paused  again  at  the  water 's 
edge,  and  Piggy,  who  had  come  up 
close  enough  to  touch  the  rickety 
lad,  reached  out  a  muddy  hand  and 
dabbed  'the  quaking  boy's  breast. 
The  other  boys  roared  with  glee. 
Mealy  extended  a  deprecatory  hand, 
and  took  Piggy's  wet,  glistening 
arm  and  stumbled  nervously  into 
the  stream,  with  an  "  Oo-oo  ! "  at 
every  uncertain  step.  When  the 
water  came  to  Mealy's  waist  Abe 
cried,  "  Duck  !  duck,  or  I  '11  splash 
you !  "  The  boy  sank  down,  with 
his  teeth  biting  his  tongue  as  he 
said,  "  Oo  !  I  would  n't  do  you  that 
way." 

When  the  shock  of  the  tepid 
water  had  spent  itself,  Mealy 's  grin 
19 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


returned,  and   he    shivered  happily, 
"Oo  —  it's  good,  ain't  it?" 

Ten  minutes  later  the  boys  were, 
diving  from  the  roots  of  the  elm- 
tree  into  the  deep  water  on  the 
other  side  of  the  creek.  Ten  min 
utes  after  that  they  were  sliding 
down  a  muddy  toboggan  which  they 
had  revived  by  splashing  water  upon 
the  incline  made  and  provided  by 
the  town  boys  for  scudding.  Ten 
minutes  afterward  they  were  cover 
ing  themselves  with  coats  of  mud, 
adorned — one  with  stripes  made 
with  the  point  of  a  stick,  another 
with  polka-dots,  another  with  checks, 
and  Mealy  with  snake-like,  curving 
stripes.  Then  the  whole  crew 
dashed  down  the  path  to  the  rail 
road  bridge  to  greet  the  afternoon 
passenger  train.  When  it  came 
they  jumped  up  and  down  and 


20 


The  Martyrdom  of"  Mealy"  Jones 

waved  their  striped  and  spotted 
arms  like  the  barbarian  warriors 
which  they  fancied  they  were. 
They  swam  up  the  stream  leisurely, 
and,  as  they  rounded  the  bend  that 
brought  their  landing-place  into 
view,  the  quick  eye  of  Pigg/  Pen- 
nington  saw  that  some  one  had  been 
meddling  with  their  clothes.  He 
gave  the  alarm.  The  boys  quick 
ened  their  strokes.  When  they 
came  to  the  shallows  of  the  ford 
they  saw  the  blue-and- white  starched 
shirt  of  Mealy  Jones  lying  in  a  pool 
tied  into  half  a  dozen  knots,  with 
the  water  soaking  them  tighter  and 
tighter.  The  other  boys'  clothes 
were  not  disturbed. 

"  Mealy 's  got  to  chaw  beef," 
cried  Piggy  Pennington.  The 
other  boys  echoed  Piggy's  merri 
ment.  Great  sorrows  come  to 

21 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


grown-up  people,  but  there  is  never 
a  moment  in  after-life  more  poig 
nant  with  grief  than  that  which 
stabs  a  boy  when  he  learns  that 
he  must  wrestle  with  a  series  of 
water-soaked  knots  in  a  shirt.  As 
Mealy  sat  in  the  broiling  sun,  grip 
ping  the  knots  with  his  teeth  and 
fingers,  he  asked  himself  again  and 
again  how  he  could  explain  his 
soiled  shirt  to  his  mother.  Lump 
after  lump  rose  in  his  throat,  and 
dissolved  into  tears  that  trickled 
down  his  nose.  The  other  boys 
did  not  heed  him.  They  were  fol 
lowing  Piggy's  dare,  dropping  into 
the  water  from  the  overhanging 
limb  of  the  elm-tree. 

They  did  not  see  the  figure  of 
another  boy,  in  a  gingham  shirt, 
blue  overalls,  and  a  torn  straw  hat, 
sitting  on  a  stone  back  of  Mealy, 

22 


The  Martyrdom  of  "  Mealy"  Jones 

smiling  complacently.  Not  until 
the  stranger  walked  down  to  the 
water's  edge  where  Mealy  sat  did 
the  other  boys  spy  him. 

"  Who  is  it  ? "  asked  Abe. 

"  I  never  saw  him  before/'  replied 
Jimmy  Sears. 

"  Oh,  I  '11  tell  you  who  it  is," 
returned  Abe,  after  looking  the 
stranger  over.  "It's  the  new  boy. 
Him  an'  his  old  man  come  to  town 
yesterday.  They  say  he  's  a  fighter. 
He  licked  every  boy  in  the  Moun 
tain  Jumpers  this  morninY' 

By  this  time  the  new  boy  was 
standing  over  Mealy,  saying,  "  How 
you  gittin*  along  ?  " 

Mealy  looked  up,  and  said  with 
the  petulance  of  a  spoiled  child, 
"  Hush  your  mouth,  you  old  smartie  ! 
What  good  d  't  do  you  to  go  an'  tie 
my  clo'es?" 

23 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


Piggy  and  Jimmy  and  Abe  came 
hurrying  to  the  landing.  They 
heard  the  new  boy  retort,  "Who 
said  I  tied  your  clo'es?"  Mealy 
made  no  reply.  The  new  boy  re 
peated  the  query.  Mealy  saw  the 
boys  in  the  water  looking  on,  and 
his  courage  rose ;  for  Mealy  was 
in  the  primary  department  of  life, 
and  had  not  yet  learned  that  one 
must  fight  alone.  He  answered, 
"I  did,"  with  an  emphasis  on  the 
"  I,"  as  he  tugged  at  the  last  knot. 
The  new  boy  had  been  looking 
Mealy  over,  and  he  replied  quickly, 
"You  're  a  liar  !" 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which 
Mealy  looked  helplessly  for  some 
one  to  defend  him.  He  was  sure 
that  his  companions  would  not  stand 
there  and  see  him  whipped.  One 
of  the  boys  in  the  water  said  diplo- 
24 


The  Martyrdom  of  "  Mealy  "  Jones 

matically,  "  Aw,  Mealy,  I  would  n't 
take  that !  " 

"  You're  another,"  faltered  Mealy, 
who  looked  supplication  and  surprise 
at  his  friends,  and  wondered  if  they 
were  really  going  to  desert  him. 
The  new  boy  waded  around  Mealy, 
and  leaned  over  him,  and  said,  shak 
ing  his  fist  in  the  freckled  face, 
"  You  're  a  coward,  and  you  don't 
dast  take  it  up  and  fight  it  out." 

Mealy 's  cheeks  flushed.  He  felt 
anger  mantling  his  frame.  He  was 
one  of  those  most  pitiable  of  mortals 
whose  anger  brings  tears  with  it. 
The  last  knot  in  the  shirt  was  all 
but  conquered,  when  Mealy  bawled 
in  a  scream  of  passionate  sobs, — 

"  When  I  git  this  shirt  fixed  I  'II 
show  you  who's  a  coward." 

The  new  boy  sought  a  level  place 
on  the  bank  for  a  fight,  and  sneered, 
25 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


"  Oh,  cry  baby !  cry  baby !  Say, 
boys,  where  's  its  bottle  ? " 

Mealy  rose  with  a  stone  in  each 
hand,  and  hobbled  over  the  pebbles, 
trying,  "  Touch  me  now !  Touch 
me  if  you  dare  !  " 

"  Aw,  you  coward !  drop  them 
rocks,"  snarled  the  new  boy. 

Mealy  looked  at  his  friends  im 
ploringly.  He  felt  lonely,  deserted, 
and  mistreated,  but  he  saw  in  the 
faces  of  his  comrades  the  reflection 
of  the  injunction  to  put  down  the 
stones.  He  did  so,  and  his  anger 
began  to  cool.  But  he  whimpered 
again,  "Well  now,  touch  me  if  you 
dare!" 

The  new  boy  came  over  briskly, 
and  made  a  feint  to  slap  the  naked 
lad,  who  warded  off  the  blow,  snif 
fling,  "You  just  leave  me  alone.  I 
ain't  hurtin'  you."  The  boys  in  the 
26 


The  Martyrdom  of  "  Mealy  "  Jones 

water  laughed  —  it  seemed  to  Mealy 
such  a  cruel  laugh.  Anger  envel 
oped  him  again,  and  he  struck  out 
blindly  through  his  tears,  hand  over 
hand,  striking  the  new  boy  in  the 
mouth  and  making  it  bleed,  before 
he  realized  that  the  fight  had  begun. 
The  new  boy  tried  to  clinch  Mealy, 
but  the  naked  body  slipped  away 
from  him;  and  just  then  the  com 
batants  saw  the  satisfied  grin  freeze 
on  the  faces  of  the  boys  in  the  water. 
A  step  crunched  the  gravel  near 
them,  and  in  a  moment  that  flashed 
vividly  with  rejoicing  that  the  fight 
was  ended,  then  with  abject,  chat 
tering  terror,  Mealy  Jones  saw  his 
father  approaching.  Mealy  did  not 
run.  The  uplifted  cane  and  the  red, 
perspiring  face  of  his  father  trans 
fixed  the  lad,  yet  he  felt  called  upon 
to  say  something.  His  voice  came 
27 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


from  a  dry  throat,  and  he  spoke 
through  an  idiotic  grin  as  he  said, 
"I  didn't  know  you  wanted  me, 
pa." 

After  the  burst  of  his  father's 
anger  ten  awful  minutes  of  shame 
passed  for  Mealy  while  he  was  put 
ting  on  his  wet  clothes.  The  boys 
in  the  water  swam  noiselessly  up 
stream  to  the  roots  of  the  elm-tree, 
where  he  saw  them  looking  at  his 
disgrace.  During  those  ten  minutes 
Mealy  realized  that  his  father's  deep 
ening  silence  portended  evil;  so  he 
tried  to  draw  his  father  into  a  dis 
cussion  of  the  merits  of  the  case 
by  whimpering  from  time  to  time, 
"  Well,  I  guess  they  ast  me  to 
come,5'  or  "  Piggy  said  it  would  n't 
hurt,  'cause  't  ain't  in  dog  days,"  or 
"  I  was  n't  in  where  it  was  deep.  I 
was  only  a-wadin'."  The  new  boy, 
28 


The  Martyrdom  of"  Mealy"  Jones 

who  was  seated  upon  a  log  near  by 
with  a  stone  in  his  hand,  which  he 
had  picked  up  fearing  the  elder 
Jones  would  join  the  fray,  sniffed 
audibly.  He  called  to  the  other 
boys  derisively,  "  Say,  any  of  you 
boys  got  the  baby's  blocks  ? "  It 
did  not  lift  the  mantle  of  humilia 
tion  that  covered  Mealy  to  hear  his 
father  reply  to  the  new  boy,  "That 
will  do  for  you,  sir."  While  Mealy 
wept  he  wiped  away  his  tears  first 
with  one  hand  and  then  with  the 
other,  employing  the  free  hand  in 
fastening  his  clothes  together.  He 
did  not  fear  the  punishment  that 
might  be  in  store  for  him.  He 
was  thinking  of  the  agony  of  his 
next  meeting  with  Piggy  Penning- 
ton.  Mealy  fancied  that  Abe  Car 
penter,  who  was  a  quiet,  philosoph 
ical  boy,  would  not  tease  him,  but 

2Q 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


horror  seized  him  when  he  thought 

of  piggy- 

As  Mealy  fastened  his  last  button, 
Ae  felt  his  father's  finger  under  his 
collar,  and  his  own  feet  shambling 
blindly  over  the  pebbles,  up  the 
path,  into  the  bushes;  he  heard 
the  boys  in  the  water  laugh  with 
the  new  boy,  and  then  —  stories 
differ.  The  boys  say  that  he  howled 
lustily,  "  Oh,  pa,  I  won't  do  it  any 
more,"  over  and  over  again.  Mealy 
Jones  says  that  it  did  n't  hurt  a  bit. 

This  much  is  certain :  that  Mas 
ter  Harold  Jones  walked  through 
the  town  that  day  a  few  feet  ahead 
of  his  father,  who  tapped  the  boy's 
legs  with  a  hooked  cane  whenever 
his  steps  lagged.  At  the  door  of 
the  Jones  home  Mrs.  Jones  stood 
to  welcome  the  martial  procession, 
which  she  saw,  and  then  heard, 
30 


He  felt  his  father's  finger  under  his  collar  and  his  own 
feet  shambling. 


The  Martyrdom  of cc  Mealy  "  Jones 

approaching  some  time  before  it 
arrived.  To  his  wife,  whose  face 
pictmed  anxious  grief,  Mr.  Jones 
said,  as  he  turned  the  captive  over 
to  her:  "  I  found  this  young  gentle 
man  in  swimming — swimming  and 
fighting.  I  have  attended  to  his 
immediate  wants,  I  believe.  I  leave 
him  to  you/' 

Harold  Jones  was  but  a  lad  — 
a  good  lad  whose  knowledge  of  the 
golden  text  was  his  Sunday-school 
teacher's  pride.  Yet  he  had  col 
lected  other  scraps  of  useful  infor 
mation  as  he  journeyed  through  life. 
One  of  these  was  a  perfectly  practi 
cal  familiarity  with  the  official  road 
uiap  to  his  mother's  heart.  There 
fore,  when  he  crossed  the  threshold 
of  the  Jones  home  Harold  began  at 
once  to  weep  dolefully. 

"  Harold  Jones,  what  do  you 
33 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


mean  by  such  conduct?"  asked  his 
mother. 

The  boy  stood  by  the  window 
long  enough  to  see  that  his  father 
had  turned  the  corner  toward  the 
town.  Then  he  fell  on  the  floor, 
and  began  to  bewail  his  lot,  refus 
ing  to  answer  the  first  question  his 
mother  asked,  but  telling  instead 
how  "all  the  other  boys  in  this 
town  can  go  swimmin'  when  they 
want  to,"  hinting  that  he  would  n't 
care,  if  papa  had  only  just  come  and 
brought  him  home,  but  that  papa 
—  and  this  was  followed  by  a  vocal 
cataract  of  woe  that  made  the  dish- 
pans  ring. 

He  noted  that  his  mother  bent 
over  him  and  said,  "  My  poor  boy ; " 
at  which  sign  little  Harold  punc 
tured  the  levees  of  his  grief  again, 
and  said  he  "never  was  goin'  to 
34 


The  Martyrdom  of  "  Mealy  "  Jones 

face  any  of  the  boys  in  this  town 
again  "  —  he  "just  could  n't  bear 
it."  Mrs.  Jones  paused  in  her  work 
at  this,  put  down  a  potato  that  she 
was  peeling,  and  stood  up  stiffly, 
saying  in  a  freezing  tone,  "Harold 
Jones,  you  don't  mean  to  tell  me 
that  your  father  punished  you  in 
front  of  those  other  little  boys  ? " 

Her  son  only  sobbed  and  nodded 
an  affirmative,  and  gave  lusty  voice 
to  the  tearful  wish  that  he  was  dead. 
Mrs.  Jones  stooped  to  the  floor  and 
took  her  child  by  an  arm,  lifting 
him  to  his  feet.  She  smoothed  his 
hair  and  took  him  with  her  to  the 
big  chair  in  the  dining-room,  where 
she  raised  his  seventy  pounds  to  her 
lap,  saying  as  she  did  so,  "Mama's 
boy  will  soon  be  too  big  to  hold." 
At  that  the  spoiled  child  only  re 
newed  his  weeping  and  clutched 
35 


The  Court  of  Boyville 

her  tightly.  There,  little  by  little, 
he  forgot  the  mishaps  of  the  day. 
There  the  anguish  lifted  from  his 
heart,  and  when  his  mother  asked, 
"Harold,  why  did  you  go  into  the 
water  when  we  told  you  not  to?" 
the  child  only  shook  his  head,  and, 
after  repeated  questioning,  his  answer 

came,  —  M 

"Well,  they  asked  me,  mom. 
"Who    asked     you?"     persisted 

Mrs.  Jones. 

« Piggy   Pennington   and    Jimmy 

Sears,"  returned  the  lad. 

To  the   query,    "Well,    do   you 
have  to  do  everything  they  ask  you 
to,  Harold?"    the  lad's  answer  was 
a    renewal    of    the    heart-breaking 
sobs.     These  softened  the  mother's 
heart,  as  many  and  many  a  woman's 
heart  has  been  melted  through   all 
the  ages.     She  soothed   the    truant 


Mrs.  Jones  stooped  to  the  floor  and  took  her  child 
by  an  arm. 


The  Martyrdom  of"  Mealy"  Jones 

r  '  *  *  •••          ...I—..  i.  ...-.,  .      i  .  ••«• 

child  and  petted  him,  until  the 
cramping  in  his  throat  relaxed  suffi 
ciently  to  admit  of  the  passage  of 
an  astonishingly  large  slice  of  bread 
and  butter  and  sugar.  After  it  was 
disposed  of,  Harold  busied  himself 
by  assorting  his  old  iron  scraps  on 
the  back  porch,  and  his  mother 
smiled  as  she  fancied  she  heard  the 
boy  trying  to  whistle  a  tune. 

Harold  had  left  the  porch  before 
his  father  came  home  with  the 
beefsteak  for  supper,  and  Mrs.  Jones 
met  her  husband  with :  "  Pa  Jones, 
what  could  you  be  thinking  of — 
punishing  that  boy  before  the  other 
children  ?  Do  you  want  to  break 
what  little  spirit  he  has?  Why, 
that  child  was  nearly  in  hysterics 
for  an  hour  after  you  left !  " 

Mr.  Jones  hung  up  his  crooked 
cane,  put  a  stick  of  wood  in  the 
39 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


stove,    scraped    his    pipe   with    his 
knife,  and  blew  through  the  stem. 

"  I  guess  he  was  n't  hurt  much," 
replied  the  father.  Then  he  added, 
as  he  put  a  live  coal  in  the  pipe: 
"  I  s'pose  you  went  an'  babied  him 
an*  spoiled  it  all."  There  was  a 
puffing  pause,  after  which  Mr.  Jones 
added,  "  If  you  'd  let  him  go  more, 
an*  did  n't  worry  your  head  off 
when  he  was  out  of  sight,  he  'd 


amount  to  more/' 


Mrs.  Jones  always  gave  her  hus 
band  three  moves  before  she  spoke. 
"Yes!  yes!  you'd  make  that  boy 
a  regular  little  rowdy  if  you  had 
your  way,  William  Jones." 

In  the  mean  time  Harold  Jones 
had  heard  a  long,  shrill  whistle  in 
the  alley,  and,  answering  it,  he  ran 
as  rapidly  as  his  spindling  legs  would 
carry  him.  He  knew  it  was  the 
40 


The  Martyrdom  of cc  Mealy"  Jones 

boys.  They  were  grinning  broadly 
when  he  came  to  them.  It  was 
Piggy  Pennington  who  first  spoke, 
"  Oh,  pa,  I  won't  do  it  any  more," 
repeating  the  phrase  severa1  times 
in  a  suppressed  voice,  and  leering 
impishly  at  Mealy. 

"  Aw,  you  're  makin'  that  up," 
answered  Mealy  in  embarrassment. 
But  Piggy  continued  his  teasing 
until  Abe  Carpenter  said:  "Say, 
Mealy,  we  want  you  to  go  to  the 
cave  with  us  to-morrow  ;  can  you  ? " 

The  "  can  you "  was  an  imputa 
tion  on  his  personal  liberty  that 
Mealy  resented.  He  replied  "  Uh- 
huh  !  you  just  bet  your  bottom  dol 
lar  I  can."  Piggy  began  teasing 
again,  but  Abe  silenced  him,  and 
the  boys  sat  in  the  dirt  behind  the 
barn,  chattering  about  the  new  boy, 
whose  name,  according  to  the  others, 
41 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


was  "  Bud "  Perkins.  Mealy  en 
tered  the  conversation  with  much 
masculine  pomp  —  too  much,  in 
fact;  for  when  he  became  particu 
larly  vain-glorious  some  one  in  the 
group  was  certain  to  glance  at  his 
shoes — and  shoes  in  June  in  Boy 
ville  are  insignia  of  the  weaker  sex, 
the  badges  of  shame. 

But  Mealy  did  not  feel  his  dis 
grace.  He  walked  up  the  ash  path 
to  the  kitchen  with  an  excellent 
imitation  of  manly  pride  in  his  gait. 
He  kicked  at  a  passing  cat,  and 
shook  his  head  bravely,  talking  to 
himself  about  the  way  he  would 
have  whipped  the  new  boy  if  his 
father  had  not  interrupted  the  fight. 

As    Mrs.    Jones   heard    the   boy's 

step  on  the    porch,  she  said  to  his 

father,  "Now,  pa,  that  boy  has  been 

punished    enough    to-day.       Don't 

42 


The  Martyrdom  of"  Mealy"  Jones 

you  say  a  word  to  him."  Harold 
walked  by  his  father  with  averted 
face.  At  supper  the  boy  did  not 
look  at  his  father,  and  when  the 
dishes  were  put  away,  Mr.  Jones, 
who  sat  in  the  kitchen  smoking, 
heard  his  wife  and  the  child  in  a 
front  room,  chatting  cheerily.  The 
lonesome  father  smoked  his  pipe 
and  recalled  his  youth.  The  boy's 
voice  brought  back  his  own  shrill 
treble,  and  he  coughed  nervously. 
After  Mrs.  Jones  had  put  the  lad 
to  bed,  and  was  in  the  pantry  arrang 
ing  for  breakfast,  the  father  knocked 
the  ashes  from  his  briar  into  the 
stove,  and,  humming  an  old  tune, 
went  to  the  boy's  bedroom  door. 
He  paused  awkwardly  on  the  thresh 
old.  The  boy  turned  his  face  to 
ward  the  wall.  The  action  cut 
the  father  to  the  quick.  He  walked 

43 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


to  the  bed  and  b*nt  over  the  child, 
touching  a  father's  rough-bearded 
face  to  the  soft  cheek.  He  found 
the  soft  hand — with  a  father's  large 
hand  —  under  the  sheet,  and  he  held 
the  little  hand  tightly  as  he  said : 

"  Well,  Harold  " — there  he  paused 
for  a  second.  But  he  continued, 
"Do  you  think  you'd  a-licked  that 
boy  —  if — if — I  had  n't  a-come?" 

Then  the  two  laughed,  and  a 
little  throb  of  joyous  pain  tingled 
in  their  throats — such  as  only  boys 
may  feel. 


44 


A  RECENT   CONFEDERATE 
VICTORY 


A  LITTLE  DREAM-BOY 

Little  Boy  Blue,  come  blow  your  horn, 
And  wake  up  a  little  man  lying  forlorn, 
Asleep  where  his  life  wanders  out  of  the  morn. 

Little  Boy  Blue,  blow  a  merry,  sweet  note, 
Over  the  pool  where  the  white  lilies  float,-— 
Fill  out  the  sails  of  a  little  toy  boat. 

Blow  on  my  dream  of  a  little  boy  there,  — 
Blow  thro'  his  little  bark-whistle,  and  snare 
Your  breath  in  a  tangle  of  curly  brown  hair. 

Blow  and  O  blow  from  your  fairy  land  far, 
Blow  while  my  little  boy  wears  a  tin  star, 
And  rides  a  stick-horse  to  a  little  boy's  war. 

Blow  for  the  brave  man  my  dream-boy  would 

be, 

Blow  back  his  tears  when  he  wakes  up  to  see 
His  knight  errant  gone  and  instead  —  only  me. 

Little  Boy  Blue,  come  blow  your  horn, 

Blow  for  a  little  boy  lying  forlorn, 

Asleep  where  his  life  wanders  out  of  the  morn, 


CONFEDERATE 
*          VICTORY 

N  a  small  town,  every  man 
who  has  been  in  the  com 
munity  long  enough  to  become 
thoroughly  known  to  the  townsmen 
has  a  place  in  the  human  mosaic ; 
that  place  seldom  changes.  Occa 
sionally  a  man  is  a  year  in  finding 
his  place.  The  town  of  Willow 
Creek  located  Calhoun  Perkins  in 
two  days.  Wednesday  he  arrived  in 
town  with  his  son,  whom  he  called 
"Bud;"  Thursday  night  it  was 
reported  that  he  had  been  fishing 
the  second  time.  That  settled  it. 
47 


The  Court  of  Boy  ville 


After  that  the  boasting  of  Perkins 
about  his  family  in  Tennessee  and 
his  assertion  that  he  expected  to  go 
into  business  only  made  the  men 
laugh  when  Perkins  left  a  group  of 
them.  They  were  not  interested  in 
Perkins  by  the  following  Saturday ; 
and  Monday  every  man  in  the  town 
felt  that  his  judgment  of  a  man  who 
would  go  fishing  every  day  had  been 
handsomely  vindicated,  when  it  was 
learned  that  Perkins  had  served  in 
the  Confederate  army.  When  Per 
kins  had  been  in  the  town  three 
years,  the  anecdotes  illustrating  his 
shiftlessness  multiplied,  and  his  name 
was  a  synonym  for  that  trait  of 
character  known  in  the  vernacular 
as  "  no-'count."  In  the  third  spring, 
after  a  winter's  tussle  with  rheumat 
ism,  Perkins  died.  His  funeral  was 
of  so  little  importance  that  none  of 
48 


His  feet  hanging  out  of  the  back  of  the  <wagon  that 
had  held  the  coffin. 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory 

the  corpulent  old  ladies  in  black 
alpaca,  holding  their  handkerchiefs 
carefully  folded  in  their  hands,  came 
panting  across  the  town  to  attend  it. 
No  women  came  at  all.  And  the 
Perkins  boy  stood  by  stolidly  while 
the  dry  clods  were  rumbling  upon 
the  pine  box  in  the  grave.  The 
boy  wished  to  be  alone,  and  he 
would  not  sit  on  the  seat  with  the 
driver.  He  wiped  a  little  moisture 
from  his  eyes,  and  rode  to  town 
with  his  feet  hanging  out  of  the 
back  of  the  wagon  that  had  held 
the  coffin. 

When  the  wagon  came  to  the 
thick  of  the  town,  Bud  Perkins 
quietly  slid  to  the  ground,  and  joined 
a  group  of  afternoon  idlers  who 
were  playing  marbles  on  the  south 
side  of  a  livery  barn.  Here  and 
there  in  the  group  a  boy  said: 
5' 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


"  H'lo,  Bud,"  when  the  Perkins  boy 
joined  the  coterie,  but  many  of  the 
youngsters,  being  unfamiliar  with 
the  etiquette  of  mourning,  were 
silent,  and  played  on  at  their  game. 
When  the  opportunity  came  the 
Perkins  boy  put  a  marble  in  the 
ring  without  saying  a  word.  He 
went  back  to  "  taws/'  and  "  lagged 
for  goes,"  with  the  others.  He 
spoke  only  when  he  was  addressed. 
A  black  sense  of  desolation  lowered 
over  him,  and  he  could  not  join  in 
the  ejaculations  and  responses  of  the 
game.  His  luck  was  bad,  and  he 
lost  marble  after  marble.  In  an 
hour,  when  the  sun  was  still  in  the 
south,  he  withdrew  from  the  game 
and  sat  alone  against  the  barn,  draw 
ing  figures  on  the  earth  with  a 
broken  piece  of  hoop-iron.  The 
boy  could  not  fight  off  the  thought 
5* 


t 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory 

of  the  empty  home  waiting  for  him 
down  by  the  river.  He  saw,  as 
he  sat  there,  all  the  furniture,  his 
father's  clothes  hanging  at  the  foot 
of  the  bed,  the  stove  in  disorder; 
and  then  he  realized  that  in  the 
whole  town  not  one  hand  was  held 
out  to  him.  He  was  a  child,  yet 
the  heartlessness  of  it  all  cut  him 
to  the  quick.  This  thought  over 
whelmed  him,  again  and  again, 
each  time  with  more  agonizing 
force,  like  an  increasing  wave,  and 
as  one  flood  washed  over  him  with 
fiercer  passion  than  the  others,  the 
boy  rose  hurriedly,  ran  around  the 
barn,  and  flung  himself  upon  a  pile 
of  hay.  There  he  gave  way  to  a 
storm  of  sobs.  One  of  the  group, 
who  had  been  watching  him  more 
closely  than  the  others,  soon  with 
drew  from  the  game,  and  going  in 
55 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


the  opposite  direction  from  that 
taken  by  Bud  Perkins,  came  tiptoe 
ing  around  the  haystack. 

The  paroxysm  of  sobs  had  ceased, 
and  Bud  was  lying  face  downward 
as  if  asleep.  He  heard  the  step, 
but  pretended  not  to  hear  it.  He 
felt  some  one  pressing  the  hay  be 
side  him.  He  knew  who  it  was, 
and  the  two  boys  lay  upon  the  hay 
without  speaking.  The  Perkins  boy 
turned  his  head  away  from  the  new 
comer;  but  try  as  he  would,  Bud 
could  not  keep  from  sniffling.  In 
a  few  moments  the  other  boy  tried 
to  roll  the  Perkins  boy  over.  It 
was  a  vain  attempt.  Then  the  sob 
bing  began  anew.  But  it  was  a 
short  attack,  and,  at  length,  the 
other  boy  said  :  "  Bu-ud  ? "  Again 
he  said,  "Bu-ud?"  There  came  no 
response.  "O,  Bud — I  got  some- 
56 


He  withdrew  from  the  game  and  sat  alone  against 
the  barn. 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory 

thin'  to  tell  you !  "  The  sniffling 
continued,  and  the  other  boy  kept 
on  pleading.  "Ah,  Bud,  come  on; 
I  got  somethin'  real  good,"  he  said. 
Silence  answered.  The  teasing  went 
on:  ''Say,  Bud,  I  won  back  all  your 
marbles."  That  was  repeated  twice. 
Then  a  hand  went  over  toward  the 
other  boy.  He  filled  it  with  mar 
bles,  and  it  went  back.  Another 
silence  was  followed  by  a  rustle  of 
hay,  and  a  dirty  face  turned  over, 
and  a  voice  said"  through  a  pathetic, 
apologetic  smile  :  "  This  old  nicked 
glassey  ain't  mine."  The  two  heads 
nestled  together,  and  four  eyes  gazed 
at  the  blue  sky  and  the  white  clouds 
for  a  long  time.  It  was  the  Perkins 
boy  who  spoke :  "  Say,  Piggy,  I  bet 
you  'd  cry,  too,  if  you  was  me." 

Piggy  wormed  his  arm  under  the 
hay  around  the  Perkins  boy's  neck, 
59 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


as  he  asked,  "  What  you  goin'  to  do 
to-night,  Bud?" 

"I  dunno.     Why?"  replied  Bud. 

"  Well,  I  'm  comin'  out  to  stay 
all  night.  They  're  goin'  to  have 
a  party  at  our  house,  and  ma  said  I 
could." 

Bud  drew  himself  up  slowly ; 
then  threw  himself  with  a  quick 
spring  on  top  of  Piggy,  and  the  two 
began  to  wrestle  like  kittens  in  the 
hay. 

Even  while  Piggy  Pennington 
and  Bud  Perkins  were  sitting  at 
dusk  on  the  back-porch  steps  of 
the  Pennington  house,  eating  turkey- 
wings  which  Mrs.  Pennington  had 
given  to  them,  and  devouring  ham 
sandwiches  which  Piggy  had  taken 
from  the  big  platterful  in  the  pantry, 
looking  the  hired  girl  boldly  in  the 

face    as   he   did   it,    even    then   the 
60 


As  she  turned  to  her  turkey-slicing. 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory 

preparations  for  the  Pennington  en 
tertainment  were  progressing  indoors. 
The  parlor,  the  sitting-room,  and 
the  dining-room,  which  had  been 
decorated  during  the  warm  after 
noon  with  borrowed  palms  and  with 
roses  from  the  neighbor's  vines,  were 
being  ventilated.  Windows  were 
rising,  and  doors  opening.  The 
velvety  air  of  May  was  fluttering 
everywhere.  And  there  was  so  much 
life  in  it,  that  when  Mrs.  Pen 
nington  saw  the  two  boys  pass  out 
of  the  alley  gate,  she  saw  the  Per 
kins  boy  grab  her  son's  hat  and  run 
away  whooping,  while  Piggy  fol 
lowed,  throwing  clods  at  his  com 
panion's  legs  and  feet.  She  thought, 
as  she  turned  to  her  turkey-slicing, 
that  the  Perkins  child  was  not  tak 
ing  his  father's  death  "very  hard." 
But  she  did  not  know  that  the  boy- 
63 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


ish  whoop  was  the  only  thing  that 
saved  him  from  sobbing,  as  he  left 
the  home  where  he  saw  such  a  con 
trast  to  his  own.  How  could  a 
woman  carrying  the  responsibilities 
of  the  social  honor  of  the  Methodist 
church  in  Willow  Creek  have  time 
to  use  her  second  sight  ? 

The  guests  at  the  Pennington 
house  that  evening  divided  the  honors 
equally  between  the  new  preacher, 
for  whom  the  party  was  made,  and 
Miss  Morgan,  whose  last  niece  had 
married  and  left  her  but  two  days 
before.  Most  of  the  guests  had 
met  the  new  preacher;  but  none 
of  them — save  one  or  two  of  her 
intimate  friends  —  could  know  how 
the  lonely  little  old  woman  was  far 
ing  in  the  cottage  whence  one  by 
one  her  adopted  birds  had  flown. 
They  called  her  "  little  Miss  Mor- 
64 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory 

gan  "  in  the  town,  and  the  story  of 
her  life  of  devotion  to  her  brothers' 
and  sisters'  children  was  familiar  to 
every  one  about  her.  For  ten  years 
she  had  lived  in  Willow  Creek  car 
ing  for  her  brothers'  orphans.  She 
came  to  the  community  from  the 
East,  and  found  what  she  brought 
—  culture,  friends,  and  kindness  at 
every  turn.  The  children  whom 
she  had  cared  for  had  grown  up, 
filed  through  the  town's  real  estate 
college,  and  then  mating  had  left 
the  little  spinster  alone. 

At  the  Penningtons'  that  even 
ing  she  was  cheerful  enough  — 
so  cheerful,  indeed,  in  her  little 
bird-like  way,  that  many  of  those 
who  talked  with  her  fancied  that 
the  resourceful  little  body  was  be 
yond  the  reach  of  petty  grief.  The 

modest,  almost  girlish  smile  beamed 
67 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


through  the  wrinkles  of  fifty 
autumns  as  brightly  that  evening 
at  the  Penningtons'  as  the  town 
had  ever  seen  it.  From  her  place 
in  a  high-backed  chair  in  the 
corner,  Miss  Morgan,  in  her  shy, 
self-deprecatory  way,  shed  her  faint 
benediction  about  her  as  she  had 
done  for  a  decade.  There  was  a 
sweetness  in  Miss  Morgan's  manner 
that  made  the  old  men  gallant  to 
her  in  a  boyish  way  ;  and  the  wives, 
who  loved  her,  were  proud  of  their 
husbands*  chivalry.  During  the 
evening  at  the  Penningtons'  the  con 
versation  found  much  of  its  inspira 
tion  in  the  Memorial  Day  services 
on  the  morrow  and  in  anecdotes 
about  the  thriftlessness  of  Calhoun 
Perkins.  Memorial  Day  was  one  of 
the  holidays  which  Miss  Morgan 
kept  in  her  heart.  Then  she  decor- 
68 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory 

ated  each  year  a  lover's  grave  —  a 
grave  she  had  never  seen.  The  day 
had  been  sacred  in  her  heart  to  the 
memory  of  a  spring  night,  and  the 
moon  and  the  lilacs  and  the  blue 
uniform  of  a  soldier.  Upon  other 
days  she  waved  this  memory  away 
with  a  gay  little  sigh,  and  would 
have  none  of  it.  But  on  Memorial 
Day  she  bade  the  vision  come  into 
her  heart  and  bide  a  while. 

But  she  did  not  open  the  door 
there  at  the  party.  They  said  to 
one  another,  going  home  that  night: 
"  Well,  I  don't  see  Js  she  minds  it  a 
bit.  Is  n't  that  pluck  for  you  —  not 
lonesome,  not  grumpy — just  the 
same  little  body  she  was  when  we 
first  saw  her.  Well  —  I  know  one 
thing — I  couldn't  do  it." 

As  for  Miss  Morgan,  while  she 
was  walking  home  that  night,  she 
69 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


was  thinking  of  the  women  of  her 
age  whom  she  had  just  left;  the 
romance  seemed  to  be  gone  com 
pletely  from  their  lives,  their  faces 
seemed  a  trifle  hard  to  her,  and  she 
was  wondering  if  life  would  have 
gone  so  with  her  if  there  had  been 
no  Shiloh. 

The  town  clock  in  the  school- 
house  was  tolling  eleven,  as  Miss 
Morgan  turned  the  key  in  the  front 
door.  The  night  was  starry  and  in 
viting,  and  as  her  house  stood  among 
the  trees,  somewhat  back  from  the 
street,  Miss  Morgan  did  not  feel 
afraid  to  sit  in  a  porch  chair,  refresh 
ing  herself,  before  going  indoors. 
The  wind  brought  the  odor  of  the 
lilacs  from  the  bush  at  the  house 
corner,  and  the  woman  sat  drinking 
in  the  fragrance.  She  saw  a  pair  of 

lovers  strolling  by,  who  did  not  ob- 

70 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory   . 

serve  her.  She  could  hear  the  mur 
mur  of  their  voices ;  she  did  not  try 
to  catch  their  words.  She  sat 
silently  dreaming  and  wondering. 
Again  and  again  her  eyes  went  to 
the  stars  in  a  vain  questioning,  and 
her  lips  moved.  Maybe  she  was 
asking  "  where,"  maybe  she  was 
asking  "why."  As  the  moments 
slipped  by,  the  years  fell  away  from 
her.  She  had  carried  her  little 
romance  in  her  heart  unsullied  by 
reality.  To-night  the  talk  of  Me 
morial  Day  had  brought  it  all  back, 
and  the  thrill  of  other  days  returned 
with  the  odor  of  the  lilacs.  She 
yielded  to  a  vague,  crazy  notion,  and 
in  an  impulsive,  girlish  run  she  went 
to  the  corner  of  the  porch  and  broke 
a  sprig  from  the  lilac-tree. 

Then  with  a  short  sigh,  that  had 
just  the  hint  of  a  smile   in   it,  she 
71 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


took  the  lilac  sprig  into  the  house. 
Perhaps  she  fancied  that  no  one 
would  see  the  flowers  but  she. 
Maybe  the  oppressive  stillness  of  the 
empty  house  burdened  her.  Cer 
tainly  something  was  heavy  upon 
her,  for  there  was  no  smile  in  the 
sigh  that  came  deeply  from  her 
heart,  as  she  locked  the  door.  It 
must  have  seemed  lonely  for  Miss 
Morgan,  coming  from  the  crowded 
parlor,  and  the  questions  that  her 
friends  asked  about  her  plans  may 
have  followed  her.  Perhaps  it  was 
the  answer  to  these  questions  that 
kept  her  awake.  She  sat  by  her 
window  and  went  over  and  over 
again  the  question,  what  should  she 
do.  The  wedding  that  had  so 
recently  livened  the  cottage  kept 
Doming  to  the  little  old  woman's 
mind,  and  with  it  came  the  bride. 
72 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory 

When  the  other  children  had  gone 
away,  Miss  Morgan  let  them  go 
with  her  blessing,  and  was  glad  of 
their  good  fortunes.  But  this  last 
child  to  go  had  been  Miss  Morgan's 
pet.  As  the  lonely  spinster  sat  there 
she  recalled  how  the  child  had  been 
moulded  by  her  ;  how  she  had  fancied 
the  child's  heart  was  hers,  cherish 
ing  in  it  the  ideals,  the  sentiment, 
the  tendernesses  that  the  older  heart 
had  held  sacred  for  a  lifetime.  Miss 
Morgan  recalled  how  she  and  the 
girl  had  mingled  their  tears  over  the 
first  long  dress  that  their  hands  made, 
knowing,  each  of  them,  that  it 
meant  the  coming  of  the  parting. 
As  she  looked  into  the  awful  vistas 
of  the  stars,  the  woman  knew  that 
she  was  one  of  God's  creatures,  all 
alone  —  without  one  soul  that  she 
might  even  signal  to. 
75 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


The  word  "  alone  "  came  to  her 
so  strangely  that  she  repeated  it  in  a 
whisper.  Its  sound  touched  some 
string  within  her  bosom,  and  she  put 
her  head  upon  the  open  window  sill 
and  wept,  sobbing  the  word  "  alone" 
until  sleep  soothed  her. 

The  morning  sunlight  helped  Miss 
Morgan  to  put  aside  the  problems 
of  the  night ;  she  hummed  an  old 
war  tune  as  she  went  about  her 
work,  but  it  did  not  lift  the  silence 
from  the  house.  The  rooms  that  a 
few  days  before  had  been  vocal  with 
life,  were  so  dead  that  the  clock 
ticking  in  the  parlor  might  be  heard 
in  the  kitchen.  The  canary's  cheer 
ful  song  echoed  shrilly  through  the 
silent  place.  Miss  Morgan  said  to 
him,  "  Dickey,  Dickey,  for  gracious 
sake,  keep  still  —  you'll  drive  me 
wild."  But  her  voice  only  increased 
76 


"Dickey,  Dickey,  for  gracious  sake,  keep  still. 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory 

the  bird's  vehemence,  and  the  throb 
bing  in  her  ears  brought  on  a  head 
ache.  When  she  put  a  paper  over 
the  cage,  the  clock  annoyed  her. 
She  was  irritated  by  a  passing  boy 
whistling  "  The  Girl  I  Left  Behind 
Me"  with  all  his  might,  but  sadly 
off  the  key.  She  went  to  the  win 
dow  and  saw  Bu'd  Perkins. 

She  did  not  know  that  the  child 
had  just  arisen  from  a  cheering 
breakfast  at  the  Penningtons*  —  even 
if  she  knew  how  much  a  hearty 
breakfast  cheers  up  any  boy.  But 
the  spectacle  of  the  orphan  facing 
the  world  so  bravely  moved  Miss 
Morgan.  She  felt  a  sudden  wave 
of  pity,  and  with  it  came  the  con 
viction  of  guilt  —  that  she  had  been 
selfish  while  the  boy  was  suffering. 
She  had  heard  at  the  Penningtons' 
that  the  county  would  probably  take 
79 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


charge  of  him ;  but  she  recalled 
what  she  had  heard  in  its  full  mean 
ing  to  the  child  only  when  she  saw 
him  turn  the  corner,  going  toward 
the  centre  of  the  town.  There  was 
a  feeling  of  keen  joy  in  her  heart  as 
she  realized  that  she  was  not  useless 
in  the  world,  and  she  went  about 
her  morning's  work  with  the  light 
est  heart  in  all  Willow  Creek  beat 
ing  in  her  breast. 

Bud  Perkins  had  seen  but  two 
Memorial  Days  in  Kansas  —  and 
upon  each  of  these  days  he  and  his 
father  had  gone  fishing.  The  boy 
knew  it  was  a  soldiers'  holiday,  and 
from  Piggy  Pennington  Bud  had 
found  out  what  were  the  purposes 
of  the  day.  He  knew  that  his 
father  had  been  a  soldier  —  a  soldier 
on  the  wrong  side.  But  he  did  not 

know    that    graves   of    Confederate 
So 


"  Did  you  know  my  dad  <was  a  soldier?" 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory- 
soldiers   were    not    included    in    the 
day's   sacrament. 

"  Mornin',  Captain,"  said  Bud  to 
a  slight,  gray-haired  old  man,  stoop 
ing  over  a  basket  of  flowers  in  a 
vacant  store-room  in  the  main  street 
of  the  town. 

When  the  man  replied  kindly  the 
boy  took  heart  to  say  :  "  You  must 
be  kind  o'  runnin'  things  here,  I 
guess." 

"  I  'm  in  charge  of  the  flowers, 
Bud,  just  for  to-day,"  replied  Captain 
Meyers,  who  did  not  wish  to  seem 
as  vainglorious  as  he  was. 

"  Coin*  to  put  flowers  on  all  the 
soldiers'  graves  —  are  you  ?  "  queried 
Bud.  The  elder  replied  that  the 
Post  aimed  to  do  so. 

"  Did  you  know  my  dad  was  a  sol 
dier  ?  "  was  the  boy's  next  question. 

The  captain's   heart   was  pricked 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


when  he  saw  what  was  in  Bud's 
mind.  The  captain  knew  what  the 
next  query  would  be.  He  was  a 
gentle  man  and  kind.  So,  looking 
about  to  see  if  any  comrades  of  a 
sterner  sect  than  he  were  in  hearing 
before  replying,  he  said :  "  You 
must  n't  feel  bad  now,  Buddie,  but 
it 's  only  them  on  the  Union  side  — 
whose  graves  we  decorate  to-day.  I 
would  n't  mind,  if  I  was  you/'  Cap 
tain  Meyers  was  not  a  diplomat,  and 
he  said  the  words  poorly. 

In  an  instant  the  boy's  eyes  filled 
with  tears.  They  dried  in  anger  be 
fore  they  reached  his  flushed  cheek. 
He  clinched  his  hands,  turned,  and 
walked  hotly  out  of  the  room.  In 
the  door  he  paused,  whirled  around, 
and  cried,  — 

«  Yank  !  Yank  !  Rick-stick-stank ! 
High  ball,  low  ball,  dirty-faced  Yank!" 
84 


During  the  next  tivo  hours  the  boy  wandered  on  tht 
prairie. 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory 

Then  he  ran  wildly  down  the 
street  to  escape  the  infuriated  mob 
which  he  believed  would  pursue  him. 
The  knowledge  that  he  was  cut  off 
from  the  day's  festivities  made  him 
wince  with  pain  as  he  ran.  Not 
until  he  came  out  upon  the  road 
across  the  prairie  did  he  stop  — 
breathless,  worn  out,  crying.  Dur 
ing  the  next  two  hours  the  boy 
wandered  on  the  prairie  and  in  the 
woods  gathering  wild  flowers.  By 
the  time  the  exercises  in  the  Willow 
Creek  opera  house  were  finished  and 
the  procession  was  formed,  Bud  Per 
kins  had  a  heaping  armful  of  field 
blossoms.  He  was  coming  over  the 
hill  to  the  cemetery  when  he  heard 
the  band  strike  up  the  "  Dead  March  " 
down  in  the  village.  His  impulse 
was  to  run  away.  He  checked  him 
self  and  walked  across  the  place,  past 
87 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


the  shafts  and  monuments,  toward  his 
father's  grave  under  the  hill  furthest 
from  the  town.  In  the  middle  of 
the  cemetery  the  boy  stopped.  His 
eyes  were  caught  by  a  marble  lamb 
over  a  child's  grave.  The  inscrip 
tion  he  read  was  "  Mary  Pennington, 
aged  two  years,  three  months,  and 
ten  days."  The  date  line  upon  the 
stone  told  of  a  year  that  had  passed 
before  the  Perkins  boy  was  born. 
He  gazed  at  it  a  moment,  and  put 
there  a  handful  of  his  choicest 
flowers.  Looking  up  he  saw  some 
early  visitor  to  the  silent  place  step 
ping  from  behind  a  monument.  Bud 
had  scattered  his  flowers  before  he 
saw  that  he  was  being  watched;  so 
he  pretended  to  hunt  for  stones  to 
throw.  He  gathered  several,  and 
peppered  them  at  shafts  and  at  birds. 
Bud  Perkins  walked  to  the  freshly- 
88 


Mary  Pennington,  aged  two  years,  three  months  t 
and  ten  days."** 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory 

made  mound  where  his  father  lay, 
and  scattered  his  posies  over  it.  The 
village  "cornet  band"  was  coming 
nearer  and  nearer  to  the  hill.  The 
boy  curbed  a  temptation  to  leave. 
He  walked  lazily  about  the  grave  un 
til  the  Memorial  Day  procession  had 
entered  the  big  iron  gate  a  hundred 
yards  away.  Calhoun  Perkins's  grave 
could  not  be  seen  from  the  plot 
where  the  townspeople  had  gathered. 
The  boy  sat  down  with  his  back  to 
the  crowd.  He  did  not  know  how 
near  the  people  were  to  him.  He 
felt  that  they  were  staring  down, 
perhaps  laughing,  at  him.  So  he 
tried  to  assume  a  careless  air.  He 
picked  up  clods  and  tossed  them  at 
adjacent  objects.  Tiring  of  this,  he 
chewed  the  grass  stems,  and  sucked 
the  nectar  from  the  corolla  of  wild 
honeysuckles.  But  this  did  not  keep 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


the  lump  out  of  his  throat,  and  it 
did  not  subdue  the  turmoil  of  sorrow 
in  his  heart  at  the  thought  that  his 
father  was  scorned  in  the  town. 
Once  his  small  frame  shook  with  a 
strangled  sob,  but  immediately  after 
ward  he  threw  an  unusually  big  clod 
at  a  post  near  by.  He  had  been 
hearing  voices  and  footsteps  on  the 
brow  of  the  hill  for  several  minutes. 
Occasionally  he  picked  out  a  familiar 
voice,  and  once  he  heard  Mealy 
Jones  call  his  name.  He  did  not 
answer,  but  a  woman  standing  a 
little  further  up  the  hill  asked  Mealy, 
"  Who  is  it,  Harold  ?  "  "  Bud,"  said 
the  youngster. 

"  Bud  who  ? "  asked  the  woman's 
voice. 

The  Perkins  boy  heard  the  dia 
logue.  He  was  sitting  down,  throw 
ing  clods  into  the  air,  and  catching 
92 


Piggy  went  to  get  his  flying  hat. 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory 

them  as  they  fell,  and  this  appeared 
to  be  an  engrossing  task. 

"  Bud  Perkins.  He's  settin'  down 
by  his  pa's  grave/'  replied  the  boy 
on  the  hill.  The  child  by  the 
fresh  mound  pictured  himself  as  the 
other  boy  saw  him,  and  his  eyes 
brimmed  over  with  tears.  He 
seemed  so  desolate. 

"  Why  don't  you  go  to  him  ? " 
insisted  the  woman,  coming  nearer. 

"Oh,  Miss  Morgan,"  said  the 
boy  whom  she  addressed,  lowering 
his  voice,  but  not  lowering  it  suffi 
ciently,  "  Miss  Morgan,  you  don't 
know  him." 

Just  then  Bud  was  startled  by  a 
footstep  at  his  side.  He  looked  up 
and  saw  Piggy  Pennington,  who 
had  a  big  bunch  of  roses  in  his 
hands,  and  who,  seeing  the  stained 
face  of  his  friend,  said  in  embar- 
95 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


rassed  confusion :  "  Ma  sent  'em." 
Piggy  put  the  roses  by  the  new  pine 
head-board,  and  lay  down  —  lying 
across  his  companion's  feet. 

"  Get  off  me,"  said  Bud,  when 
he  had  treated  himself  to  a  long, 
trembling  sniff,  after  a  painful  si 
lence.  "  I  ain't  no  sidewalk." 

When  Piggy  went  to  get  his  fly 
ing  hat,  he  said  under  his  breath  to 
Bud,  "  Wipe  your  face,  quick  ;  some 
one 's  comin'."  Then  he  stood 
awkwardly  at  Bud's  back  and 
shielded  him.  Piggy  spoke  first  to 
the  little  woman,  now  only  a  few 
paces  away. 

"  H'lo,  Miss  Morgan ;  lookin' 
for  old  Tom  ?  He 's  buried  off  to 
the  right  yonder." 

"  No,  my  dear.  I  want  to  speak 
to  Henry  Perkins,"  replied  th^ 

woman,    beaming     the    kindest    of 
96 


She  stroked  his  hand  and  snuggled  closer  to  him. 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory 

smiles  into  the  guardsman's  face. 
He  stepped  from  the  line  between 
Miss  Morgan  and  the  Perkins  boy, 
not  sure  that  the  intruder  would 
find  a  welcome.  Bud  was  glaring 
steadfastly  at  the  earth,  between  his 
hands  and  knees.  Piggy  said, 
"Bu-ud?" 

"  Whut,"  was  the  response. 

"  Miss  Morgan  wants  to  talk  with 
you,"  replied  Piggy. 

"  What 's  she  want  ? "  inquired 
the  Perkins  boy,  with  his  head  still 
between  his  knees. 

Miss  Morgan  had  been  coming 
nearer  and  nearer  to  him  as  the 
dialogue  had  progressed.  She  was 
standing  in  front  of  Bud  when  he 
added,  "  I  ain't  done  nothinV 

Miss  Morgan  bent  down  and 
touched  his  head  with  her  hands. 
Piggy  was  shaking  his  head  warn- 

99 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


ingly  at  her  with  much  earnestness. 
He  feared  that  such  a  feminine  pro 
ceeding  would  anger  his  comrade. 
When  Miss  Morgan  sat  upon  the 
ground  beside  Bud  and  took  one 
of  his  hands,  stroking  it  without 
the  boy's  resisting,  Piggy  Penning- 
ton  was  dumb  with  wonder.  He 
could  not  hear  the  gentle  breaking 
of  the  agonizing  lump  in  the  child's 
throat.  Even  little  Miss  Morgan 
could  not  see  the  tears  that  had 
burst  over  the  brims  of  the  orphan's 
eyes.  His  face  was  averted.  She 
stroked  his  hand,  and  snuggled 
closer  to  him.  Then  she  heard  a 
faint  whimper,  and  her  heart  could 
stand  the  strain  no  longer ;  she 
leaned  upon  the  child's  shoulder, 
and  mourned  with  him.  The  Pen- 
ington  boy  did  not  comprehend  it 
all ;  but  as  he  looked  politely  away 


100 


Miss  Morgan  smiled  happily  at  the  clouds. 


A  Recent  Confederate  Victory 

from  his  friends,  he  felt  the  mois 
ture  in  his  eyes.  He  wiped  it  away 
quickly,  glancing  to  see  if  his  weak 
ness  had  been  detected.  The  woman 
recovered  in  a  few  moments,  and 
arose  with  the  boy's  hand  gripping 
hers  warmly.  He  had  felt  her 
tears  through  his  thin  clothing,  and 
was  conquered. 

"  Come  on,  Henry  ;  we  Ye  going 
now,"  said  Miss  Morgan,  and  drew 
the  lad  up  with  her  hand. 

"  Whur  to  ?  "  asked  Bud,  who 
knew  the  answer  instinctively. 

"  Home,"  replied  the  little  woman, 
who  knew  that  the  boy  knew,  and 
who  was  sure  that  he  had  consented. 
"  Our  home  —  yours  and  mine." 

The  boy  arose,  still  holding  her 

hand,  and  looked  toward  the  grave 

with    the    flowers     strewn     over    it. 

He   gripped    her   hand   tightly — so 

103 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


tightly  that  it  pained  her  —  and 
sobbed,  as  he  faced  away  from  her  : 
"  O  pop ! " 

Then  they  walked  on  in  silence, 
till  they  came  up  with  Piggy,  who 
had  gone  a  few  steps  ahead.  It  was 
Bud  who  spoke  first.  He  said : 
"  You  don't  live  far  from  Piggy's, 
do  you,  Miss  Morgan  ?  " 

And  Piggy  Pennington  pointed 
his  finger  at  Bud's  dripping  eyes  and 
grinned,  while  Miss  Morgan  smiled 
happily  at  the  clouds. 


104 


"WHILE  THE   EVIL   DAYS 
COME   NOT" 


THE   RHYME   OF   MIGNONETTE 

When  dandelions  fleck  the  green, 

And  plum-blooms  scent  the  evening  breeze, 
And  robin's  songs  throb  through  the  trees  j 

And  when  the  year  is  raw  thirteen, 
And  Spring's  a  gawky  hoyden  yet, 

The  season  mirrors  in  its  mien 
And  in  its  tom-boy  etiquette, 
Maid  Mignonette,  my  Mignonette. 

When  bare-feet  lisp  along  the  path, 
And  boys  and  jays  go  whistling  by, 
And  girls  and  thrushes  coyly  cry 

Their  fine  joys  through  the  aftermath  — 
Then  laid  ghosts  know  their  amulet 

Which  fickle  siren  mem'ry  hath  j 

So  laughing  comes  that  sad  coquette, 
Comes  Mignonette,  —  my  Mignonette. 

The  wild  rose  is  a  conjurer, 

It  charms  the  heavy  years  away, 

Unshoes  my  feet  and  bids  them  stray 
O'er  playgrounds  where  our  temples  were. 

To  some  pale  star  I  owe  a  debt 
For  harboring  the  soul  of  her 
'      With  whom  I  learned  love's  alphabet  — 

With  Mignonette,  my  Mignonette. 


"  While  the  Evil  Days 


come  not" 


We  duck  through  the  court,  reminded  a 
bit  by  our  feelings  of  our  first  love,  who  had  n't 
the  cleanest  of  faces,  or  the  nicest  of  manners  ; 
but  she  takes  her  station  in  our  memory  be 
cause  we  were  boys  then,  and  the  golden  halo 
of  youth  is  upon  her.  —  George  Meredith. 


little  things  turn  great 
events  !  Tragedies  swing  on 
such  inconsequential  hinges.  It  is 
so  exasperating  to  look  back  over 
the  path  of  a  calamity  and  see  how 
easily  it  might  have  been  averted  ! 
If  one  man  in  the  little  town  of 
Lawrence  a  generation  ago  had  eaten 
two  pieces  of  pie-plant  pie  instead  of 
three  for  supper,  the  night  of  a  cer 
tain  party  caucus,  he  would  have 
107 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


attended  that  caucus  and  another  set 
of  delegates  would  have  gone  to  the 
County  convention,  another  would 
have  been  sent  to  the  State  Conven 
tion,  another  Governor  of  Kansas 
would  have  been  nominated  and 
elected,  and  he  would  have  chosen 
another  United  States  Senator,  who 
would  have  voted  for,  instead  of 
against,  the  impeachment  of  a 
President  of  the  United  States,  and 
the  history  of  the  civilized  world 
would  have  been  an  entirely  differ 
ent  affair  from  the  one  now  in  use. 
Similarly,  if  Winfield  Hancock  Pen- 
nington,  of  the  town  of  Boyville, 
had  slipped  his  shoes  off  in  the 
second  block  from  his  home,  instead 
of  slipping  them  off  in  the  first 
block,  on  his  way  to  school,  a  great 
shadow  that  settled  over  his  life 
might  have  been  lifted.  For  if  he 
108 


"While  the  Evil  Days  come  not" 

had  not  been  sitting  exactly  where 
he  sat  on  the  curbing  of  the  street, 
on  that  bright,  beautiful  Monday 
morning  in  September,  removing 
his  shoes  and  stockings,  he  would 
have  found  no  garter  snake  to  kill ; 
and  not  having  killed  the  snake,  he 
could  not  have  brought  it  to  school 
on  a  stick ;  and  not  having  brought 
it  to  school  on  a  stick,  he  could  not 
have  chased  the  little  girls  around 
the  yard  with  it  before  the  teacher 
came.  And  if  he  had  not  been  do 
ing  that,  he  would  not  have  con 
ceived  the  chivalrous  notion  that  he 
might  gain  the  esteem  of  his  Heart's 
Desire  by  frightening  her  with  a 
snake.  And  if  Winfield  Hancock 
Pennington  had  not  made  his  Heart's 
Desire  angry  —  without  giving  her 
a  chance  to  cool  off —  she  would 
not  have  invited  Harold  Jones  to  sit 
in 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


and  sing  with  her  during  the  open 
ing  hour.  But  probably  all  that 
happened  had  to  happen  in  the 
course  of  things ;  so  speculation  is 
idle.  But  when  it  did  happen,  it 
seemed  to  be  a  hopeless  case.  Young 
Mr.  Penmagton  had  lived  through 
the  day,  a  week  before,  when  the 
teacher  changed  his  seat  so  that  he 
could  not  see  his  Heart's  Desire 
smile ;  but  he  knew  that  she  was 
sorry  with  him,  and  that  helped  a 
little.  But  when  he  saw  Harold 
Jones  singing  from  the  same  book 
with  his  Heart's  Desire,  he  tried  in 
vain  to  catch  the  fragment  of  a  smile 
from  her.  Instead  of  a  smile,  he 
found  her  threatening  to  make  a 
face  if  he  persisted.  Piggy  seemed 
to  be  buried  in  an  avalanche  of  woe. 
Then  it  was  that  he  saw  what  a 
small  thing  had  started  the  avalanche 

112 


She  'would  not  have  invited  Harold  Jones  to  sit  and 
sing  ivith  her  during  the  opening  hour. 


"  While  the  Evil  Days  come  not " 

of  calamity  thundering  down  upon 
him,  and  he  smarted  with  remorse. 
In  his  anguish  he  tried  to  sing  alto, 
and  made  a  peculiar  rasping  sound 
that  tore  a  reproof  for  him  off  the 
teacher's  nerves. 

From  the  hour  of  the  Jones  boy's 
triumph,  he  and  Winfield  Hancock 
Pennington  —  familiarly  known  as 
"  ^ggy  "  —  became  boon  compan 
ions.  A  grown-up  outsider  might 
have  wondered  at  such  a  friendship, 
for  Harold  Jones  was  a  pale,  thin 
youth,  with  a  squeaky  voice.  His 
skimmed-milk  eyes  popped  out  over 
a  waste  of  freckles  which  blurred  his 
features  and  literally  weighted  down 
a  weak,  loosely-wired  jaw  and  kept 
an  astonished  mouth  opened  for  hours 
at  a  time.  Piggy,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  a  sturdy,  chunky,  blue- 
eyed  boy,  who  had  fought  his  way 
"5 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


up  to  glory  in  the  school,  and  who 
had  run  and  jumped,  and  tumbled 
and  dived,  and  bantered  himself  into 
the  right  to  be  King  of  Boyville. 
Chummery  between  the  two  boys 
seemed  impossible,  yet  it  was  one  of 
the  things  which  every  school  expects 
in  a  certain  crisis.  When  the  affair 
is  reversed,  the  two  little  girls  go 
about  breathing  undying  hatred  for 
one  another.  But  a  boy  begins  to 
consume  his  rival  with  politeness,  to 
seek  him  out  from  all  other  beings 
on  earth,  to  study  his  tastes  and  cater 
to  his  humors.  And  so,  while  the 
comradeship  between  Piggy  Pen- 
nington  and  Mealy  Jones  was  built 
on  ashes,  its  growth  was  beautiful  to 
see. 

In  all  their  hours  of  close  com 
munion    neither   boy    mentioned   to 
the  other  the  name  of  the  little  girl 
116 


Harold  Jones. 


"  While  the  Evil  Days  come  not " 

in  the  red  shawl  and  the  paint-brush 
pig-tails  whose  fitful  fancy  had 
brought  on  all  his  trouble.  In  some 
mysterious  way  each  managed  to 
shower  her  with  picture  cards,  to 
compass  her  about  with  oranges, 
to  embower  her  desk  with  flowers ; 
but  it  was  all  done  in  stealth,  and  she 
who  was  the  object  of  this  devotion 
rewarded  it  openly  and  —  alas  for 
the  vanity  of  her  sex  —  impartially. 
All  the  school  watched  the  battle  of 
the  hearts  eagerly.  The  big  boys, 
who  usually  know  as  little  about  the 
social  transactions  beneath  them  as 
the  teacher  knows,  felt  an  inkling 
of  the  situation.  The  red-headed 
Pratt  girl  became  deeply  interested 
in  the  affair,  though  she  was  never 
invited  to  a  party  in  the  school's 
aristocracy.  She  did  not  even  get 
an  invitation  to  Bud  Perkins's  sur- 
119 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


prise  party,  where  every  one  who  had 
any  social  standing  was  expected. 
Yet  she  saw  all  that  went  on  in  the 
school,  and  once  she  all  but  smiled 
sympathetically  at  Piggy,  when  she 
met  him  slipping  away  from  his- 
Heart's  Desire's  desk,  in  which  he 
had  left  a  flock  of  Cupids  nestling 
on  a  perfumed  blotter,  and  a  candy 
sheep.  Mealy  Jones  would  have 
snubbed  the  Pratt  girl  if  she  had 
caught  him  thus,  but  Piggy  gave  her 
a  wink  that  made  her  his  partner. 
After  that  hour  the  Pratt  girl  became 
his  scout.  The  next  day  she  blun 
dered.  That  Friday  was  burned 
into  Piggy  Pennington's  memory 
with  a  glowing  brand. 

The  trouble  occurred  in  this  way : 
On  the  Friday  following  Piggy's 
black  Monday,  the  King  of  Boyville 
decided  to  resort  to  an  heroic  meas- 


I2O 


70  study  his  tastes. 


"  While  the  Evil  Days  come  not " 

ure.  In  his  meditative  moments 
Piggy  had  made  up  speeches  ad 
dressed  to  his  Heart's  Desire 
wherein  he  had  proposed  reconcilia 
tion  at  any  sacrifice  save  that  of 
honor.  Twice  during  those  four 
days  he  had  stood  by  his  Heart's 
Desire  during  recess,  while  they 
had  looked  out  at  the  play-ground. 
But  the  words  next  to  his  heart  had 
sputtered  and  bubbled  into  nothing 
on  his  lips.  He  could  only  snap 
chalk  at  the  young  gentlemen  in 
the  yard  below  him,  in  a  preoccu 
pied  way,  and  listen  to  his  Heart's 
Desire  rattle  on  about  the  whims  of 
her  fractions  and  the  caprices  of  her 
spelling-lesson.  Friday  noon,  Win- 
field  Hancock  Pennington  took  a 
header  into  the  Rubicon.  In  the 
deserted  school-room,  just  after  the 
other  youngsters  had  gone  to  dinner 
123 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


or  to  play,  Piggy,  with  much  wig 
gling  of  his  toes,  with  much  hard 
breathing,  and  with  many  facial  con 
tortions,  wrote  a  note.  He  gave  it 
to  the  Pratt  girl  to  deliver.  When 
the  first  bell  was  ringing  that  noon, 
Piggy  was  piling  up  the  primary 
urchins  in  wiggling,  squealing  piles 
at  "crack  the  whip."  During  the 
fifteen  minutes  that  followed,  he  was 
charging  up  and  down  the  yard, 
howling  like  a  Comanche,  at  "  pull- 
away."  But  run  as  he  would,  yell 
as  he  would,  and  wrestle  as  he  would, 
Piggy  could  not  escape  the  picture 
that  rose  in  his  mind  of  a  boy  wear 
ing  his  features  and  using  his  body, 
writing  the  note  that  he  had  written. 
When  dismembered  words  and 
phrases  from  that  note  came  to  his 
mind  on  the  play-ground,  the  quaver 
of  terror  that  rose  in  Piggy's  whoop 
124 


»   .   .  the  comradeship  .   .       nuas  beautiful  to  see 


"  While  the  Evil  Days  come  not " 

was  not  dissembled.  Sometimes  fear 
froze  his  vitals,  then  a  flush  of  self- 
abasement  burned  him  with  its  flames. 
And  all  the  time  he  knew  that  the 
Pratt  girl  had  that  note.  He  almost 
hoped  that  an  earthquake  would 
swallow  her  with  it  before  she  could 
deliver  it.  When  Piggy  came  strag 
gling  in,  hot,  sweaty,  and  puffing, 
just  as  the  teacher  was  tapping  the 
tardy-bell,  a  wave  of  peace  swept 
over  him.  His  Heart's  Desire  was 
not  at  her  desk.  He  knew  that  he 
had  still  a  few  moments'  reprieve. 

They  were  singing  when  his 
Heart's  Desire  came  in.  Piggy's 
head  was  tilted  back  to  give  his  voice 
full  volume  as  he  shouted,  "  All  his 
jewels,  precious  jewels,  His  loved 
and  His  own."  His  eyes  were  half 
closed  in  an  ecstasy,  and  he  did  not 

turn  his  face  toward  the  paint-brush 
127 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


pig-tails,  nor  give  any  sign  that  he 
knew  of  their  owner's  presence. 
Yet  when  she  passed  his  desk,  his 
voice  did  not  quaver,  nor  his  eyes 
blink,  nor  his  countenance  redden,  as 
his  foot  darted  out  for  her  to  trip  over. 
She  tripped  purposely,  thereby  accept 
ing  affection's  tribute,  and  he  was  glad. 
To  elaborate  the  tale  of  how  the 
Pratt  girl  blundered  with  Piggy  Pen- 
nington's  note  would  be  depressing. 
For  it  holds  in  its  barbed  meshes  a 
record  of  one  agonizing  second  in 
which  Piggy  saw  the  folded  paper 
begin  to  slip  and  slide  down  the  in 
cline  of  his  Heart's  Desire's  desk, 
whereon  the  Pratt  girl  had  dropped 
it ;  saw  the  two  girls  grab  for  it ; 
heard  it  crash  from  the  seat  to  the 
floor  with  what  seemed  to  him  a 
deafening  roar.  Nor  is  this  all  that 
the  harrowing  tale  might  disclose. 
128 


The  red-headed  Pratt  girl. 


"  While  the  Evil  Days  come  not " 

It  might  dilate  upon  the  horror  that 
wrenched  Piggy's  spine  as  he  watched 
the  teacher's  finger  crook  a  signal 
for  the  note  to  be  brought  forward. 
It  would  be  manifestly  cruel  and 
clearly  unnecessary  to  describe  the 
forces  which  impelled  the  psychic 
wave  of  suggestion  that  inundated 
the  school  —  even  to  the  youth  of 
the  "  B  "  class,  with  his  head 
under  the  desk,  looking  for  a  pencil 
—  and  gave  every  demon  there  glee 
ful  knowledge  that  the  teacher  had 
nabbed  a  note  and  would  probably 
read  it  aloud.  It  is  enough  to  sub 
mit  the  plain,  but  painful,  statement 
that,  when  the  teacher  tapped  her 
pencil  for  attention,  a  red  ear,  a 
throbbing  red  ear,  flared  out  from 
either  side  of  Piggy  Pennington's 
Fourth  Reader,  while  not  far  away 
a  pair  of  pig-tails  bristled  up  with 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


rage  and  humiliation  from  a  desk 
where  a  little  girl's  head  lay  buried 
in  her  arms.  Then  the  teacher  un 
folded  the  crackling  paper  and  read 
this  note :  — 

FRIEND  MARY.  —  Did  you  mean  any 
thing  by  letting  Him  sing  with  you.  I 
dont  care  if  you  did  but  I  never  don 
anything  to  deserve  it,  but  if  you  dident 
I  am  very  sorry,  will  tell  you  bout  it  at 
the  partey.  Well  that  is  all  I  can  think 
of  today,  from 

Yourse  Ever, 

WIN  PENNINGTON. 

P.  S.  If  you  still  meen  what  you  sed 
about  roses  red  and  vilets  blue  all  right 
and  so  do  I.  W  H  P. 

Piggy  waded  home  through  blood 
that  night.  The  boys  could  not  re 
sist  calling  out  "  Friend  Mary "  or 
"Hello,  Roses  Red,"  though  each 

boy  knew  that  his  taunt  would  bring 
132 


He  could  only  snap  chalk  in  a  preoccupied  'way  and 
listen  to  his  Heart's  Desire. 


"While  the  Evil  Days  come  not" 

on  a  fight.  Piggy  fought  boys  who 
were  three  classes  above  him.  He 
whipped  groups  of  boys  of  assorted 
sizes  from  the  lower  grades ;  but  the 
fighting  took  him  away  from  his 
trouble,  and  in  most  cases  he  hon 
ored  his  combatants.  He  was  little 
the  worse  for  wear  when  he  chased 
the  last  swarm  of  primary  urchins 
into  his  father's  cow  lot,  fastened 
them  in,  and  went  at  them  one  by 
one  with  a  shingle.  A  child  living 
next  door  to  the  Penningtons  had 
brought  the  news  of  Piggy's  disgrace 
to  the  neighborhood,  and  by  supper- 
time  Mrs.  Pennington  knew  the 
worst.  While  the  son  and  heir  of 
the  house  was  bringing  in  his  wood 
and  doing  his  chores  about  the  barn, 
he  felt  something  in  the  air  about 
the  kitchen  which  warned  him  that 
new  tortures  awaited  him. 
135 


The  Court  of  BoyvilL 


A  boy  would  rather  take  a  dozen 
whippings  at  school  than  have  the 
story  of  one  of  them  come  home ; 
and  Piggy  thought  with  inward 
trembling  that  he  would  rather  re 
port  even  a  whipping  at  home  than 
face  his  mother  in  the  dishonor 
which  covered  him.  At  supper 
Mrs.  Pennington  repeated  the  legend 
of  the  note  with  great  solemnity. 
When  her  husband  showed  signs  of 
laughing,  she  glared  at  him.  Her 
son  ate  rapidly  in  silence.  Over  his 
mother's  shoulders  Piggy  saw  the 
hired  girl  giggle.  The  only  reply 
that  Mrs.  Pennington  could  get  to 
her  questions  was,  "Aw,  that  ain't 
nothing"  or  "Aw,  gee  whiz,  ma, 
you  must  think  that  's  somethinY* 
But  she  proclaimed,  in  the  presence 
of  the  father,  the  son,  and  the  hired 
girl,  that  if  she  ever  caught  a  boy  of 
136 


"While  the  Evil  Days  come  not" 

hers  getting  "girl-struck"  she  would 
"show him/'  which,  being  translated, 
means  much  that  no  dignified  young 
gentleman  likes  to  contemplate.  But 
when  the  son  was  out  of  hearing, 
Mrs.  Pennington  told  her  husband, 
in  the  repressed  tone  which  she  used 
when  expressing  her  diplomatic  com 
munications,  that  he  would  have 
"  to  take  that  boy  in  hand."  Where 
upon  the  father  leaned  back  in  his 
chair  and  laughed,  laughed  until  he 
grew  red  in  the  face,  laughed  till  the 
pans  in  the  kitchen  rattled,  laughed 
—  to  use  the  words  of  his  wife  in 
closing  the  incident  —  "  like  a  nat 
ural  born  simpleton." 

Alas  for  Piggy  Pennington  —  he 
might  affect  great  pride  in  his  amours 
when  the  hired  girl  teased  him ;  he 
might  put  on  a  brave  face  and  even 
lure  himself  into  the  belief  that  this 
'39 


The  Court  of  Boyvllle 


arch  tormentor  saw  him  only  as  a 
gay  deceiver ;  but  when  the  lights 
were  out,  Piggy  covered  his  head  with 
the  bedclothes,  and  grew  hot  and  cold 
by  turns,  till  sleep  came  and  bore  him 
away  from  his  humiliation. 

All  day  Saturday,  before  the  Bud 
Perkins'  surprise  party,  Piggy  Pen- 
nington  and  Mealy  Jones  were  in 
separable.  And  Piggy,  who  was 
King  of  Boyville,  came  down  from 
his  throne  and  walked  humbly  be 
side  Mealy,  the  least  of  all  his  cour 
tiers.  In  fact,  since  the  reading  of 
his  note  Piggy  had  become  need 
lessly  deferential  and  considerate  of 
the  feelings  of  his  rival. 

If  the  two  entered  a  crowd  and 
played  "  foot  and  a  half "  or  "  slap 
and  a  kick  "  or  "  leap-frog/'  and  if 
Mealy  was  "  it  "  —  and  poor  Mealy 
was  generally  "it"  in  any  game  — 
140 


He  watched  the  teacher  s  finger  crook  a  signal  for  tht 
note  to  be  brought  forward. 


"  While  the  Evil  Days  come  not " 

Piggy  did  not  jump  viciously  on 
Mealy's  wobbly  back,  nor  did  he 
slap  hard,  nor  kick  hard,  as  he 
would  have  slapped  and  kicked  on 
other  days,  before  he  descended  from 
his  throne  to  dwell  with  the  beasts 
of  the  field  on  that  fatal  Friday. 
Pride  kept  Mealy  on  the  rack. 

Time  and  again  his  little,  freckled, 
milky  face  hit  the  moist  springy 
ground  as  Bud  or  Abe  or  Jim 
bumped  into  him  at  their  play0 
He  was  glad  when  the  day  ended 
and  he  could  go  home.  For  Mealy 
Jones  abhorred  the  dirt  that  be 
grimed  his  face  and  soiled  his  white 
starched  collar.  He  liked  to  play 
in  lukewarm  water,  to  slosh  in  the 
suds,  and  to  rub  his  soft  little  hands 
whiter  and  whiter  in  the  foam. 
His  cleanliness  pleased  his  mother, 
and  she  boasted  of  it  to  the  mothers 
us 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


of  other  boys  —  mothers  of  boys 
with  high-water  marks  just  above 
their  shirt  collars ;  of  boys  who  had 
to  be  yanked  back  to  the  roller-towel 
after  washing  to  have  their  ears 
rubbed;  of  bad,  bad,  bad  boys  who 
washed  their  feet  in  the  dew  of  the 
grass  at  night  and  told  their  mothers 
that  they  had  washed  them  in  the 
tub  at  the  pump ;  of  wicked  and 
sinful  boys  who  killed  toads  and 
cried  noisily  when  their  warts  bled 
in  the  hot  water ;  in  fact,  to  the 
mothers  of  nearly  all  the  boys  in 
Boyville.  And  thus  it  came  about 
that  Boyville  having  Mealy  Jones 
set  before  it  as  a  model  child,  con 
tracted  a  cordial  hate  for  him,  and 
rose  against  him  when  he  presumed 
to  contest  with  Piggy  for  his  Heart's 
Desire.  Yet  all  Boyville  loved  a 

fight,   and   all    Boyville   goaded    the 
144 


<\      ^ 


i 

1 


r 


"While  the  Evil  Days  come  not" 

King  to  wrath,  teased  him,  bantered 
him,  and  even  pretended  to  doubt 
his  worth.  Therefore,  when  Piggy 
Pennington,  the  King  of  Boyville, 
dressed  for  the  party  that  night  in 
his  Sunday  clothes  and  his  Sunday 
shoes  and  limped  down  the  sidewalk 
to  the  Jones's,  where  the  boys  and 
girls  were  to  meet  before  descending 
upon  Bud  Perkins,  there  was  rancor 
in  the  royal  heart  and  maternal  hair- 
oil  on  the  royal  head.  But  a  strange 
throb  of  glad  pain  in  the  pit  of  the 
royal  stomach  came  at  the  thought 
of  the  two  bright  eyes  that  would 
soon  meet  his  own.  The  eyes  made 
him  forget  his  blistering  shoes,  and 
a  smile  at  the  door  divested  his  mind 
of  the  serrated  collar  upon  which 
his  head  had  been  pivoting  for 
five  distracted  minutes.  The  last 
thing  of  all  to  go  was  his  pride  in 
147 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


the  hair-oil,  but  it  fell  before  a  voice 
that  said :  "  Well,  you  got  here,  did 
you?" 

That  was  all.  But  it  was  enough 
to  make  Piggy  Pennington  feel  the 
core  of  a  music-box  turning  inside 
him,  while  outside  the  company  saw 
the  King  of  Boyville  transformed 
into  a  very  red  and  very  sweaty 
youth  holding  madly  to  the  back 
of  his  cuffs  and  chuckling  deliri 
ously.  In  a  daze  he  took  off  his  hat, 
and  put  a  sack  of  oranges,  his  part 
in  the  evening's  refreshment,  on  a 
table  in  the  next  room.  When  he 
regained  consciousness,  Piggy  noticed 
that  Mealy  Jones,  who  had  pranced 
into  the  room  with  much  unction, 
was  sitting  next  to  his  Heart's  De 
sire.  The  children  were  making 
merry  chatter.  Piggy  took  his  place 
on  the  end  of  a  lounge,  and  turning 
148 


Over  his  mother's  shoulders  Piggy  safw  the  hired 
g^l  giggle. 


"  While  the  Evil  Days  come  not " 

his  back  to  the  guilty  pair,  gave  an 
"  injin  "  pinch  to  Jimmy  Sears,  with 
orders  to  "pass  it  on." 

Indeed,  so  unconcerned  was  Piggy 
in  the  progress  of  the  affair  behind 
him  that  he  began  to  shove  the  line  of 
the  boys  on  the  lounge ;  the  shoving 
grew  into  a  scuffle,  and  the  scuffle 
into  a  wrestle,  which  ended  on  the 
front  porch.  At  length  Piggy  stalked 
through  the  room  where  the  girls 
were  sitting,  saying,  when  he  re 
turned  with  his  oranges  and  his 
hat :  "  Come  on,  fellers,  everybody  's 
here." 

The  boys  on  the  porch  followed 
Piggy's  example,  and  in  a  minute  or 
two  they  stood  huddled  at  the  gate 
calling  at  the  girls  in  the  house  to 
hurry.  When  the  girls  were  on  the 
porch,  the  boys  struck  out,  and  the 
two  groups,  a  respectful  distance 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


apart,  walked  through  the  town. 
Mealy  Jones  was  enjoying  the 
triumph  of  his  life,  walking  proudly 
between  the  noisy  boys  and  giggling 
girls,  beside  —  but  why  linger  over 
the  details  of  this  instance  of  man's 
duplicity  and  woman's  worse  than 
weakness ! 

The  young  blades  of  the  Court  of 
Boyville  waited  politely  at  the  gate 
before  the  house  where  Bud  Perkins 
lived  with  Miss  Morgan,  his  foster 
mother.  When  the  maidens  arrived, 
all  the  company  went  trooping  up 
Miss  Morgan's  steps.  After  Piggy 
had  chased  Bud  from  the  front  door 
into  a  closet,  from  which  the  host 
fought  his  way  gallantly  into  the 
middle  of  the  parlor  floor,  the  essen 
tial  preliminaries  of  the  evening's 
entertainment  were  over.  A  little 
later  the  games  began.  First,  there 


Her  son  ate  rapidly  in  silence. 


"  While  the  Evil  Days  come  not " 

was  "forfeits."  Then  came  "  tin- 
tin."  "Clap  in  and  clap  out" 
followed,  and  finally,  after  much 
protestation  from  the  girls,  but  at 
the  earnest  solicitation  of  Mealy 
Jones,  "  post-office  "  started.  Piggy 
did  not  urge,  nor  protest.  He  had 
gone  through  the  games  listlessly, 
occasionally  breaking  into  a  spasm  of 
gayety  that  was  clearly  hollow,  and 
afterwards  sinking  into  profound  in 
difference.  For  how  could  a  well- 
conditioned  boy  be  gay  with  a 
heartache  under  his  Sunday  shirt  and 
the  spectacle  before  his  eyes  of  a 
freckled  human  cock-sparrow  dart 
ing  round  and  round  the  bower  of 
his  Heart's  Desire?  Under  such 
circumstances  it  was  clearly  impos 
sible  for  him  to  see  the  eyes  that 
sought  his  in  vain  across  the  tur 
moil  of  the  room.  Indeed,  a  voice 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


pitched  a  trifle  high  to  carry  well 
spoke  for  him  to  hear,  but  met  deaf 
ears.  A  little  maid  in  a  black-and- 
red  check  which  the  King  of  Boy 
ville  once  preferred  to  royal  purple, 
even  made  her  way  across  the  throng 
—  undesignedly,  he  thought,  but 
Piggy  basked  in  the  joy  of  her 
presence  and  made  no  sign  to  show 
his  pleasure.  A  little  later,  in  the 
shuffle  of  the  game,  Piggy  and  his 
Heart's  Desire  were  far  apart.  Half 
an  hour  passed,  but  still  he  did  not 
revive.  Mealy  Jones  called  her  out 
in  "  post-office/'  and  Piggy  thought 
he  saw  her  smile.  That  was  too 
much.  When  the  dining-room  door 
closed  behind  the  black-and-red 
checked  dress,  the  pitcher  that  en 
closed  his  woe  broke  and  the  wheel 
at  the  cistern  of  his  endurance 
stopped.  Mealy  Jones  came  into 
156 


His  cleanliness  pleased  his  mother  and  she  boasted 
of  it  to  the  mothers  of  other  boys. 


cc  While  the  Evil  Days  come  not " 

the  room,  and  the  boy  who  kept  the 
"  post-office "  called  out,  "  Piggy 
Pennington."  But  the  slam  of  the 
front  door  was  his  answer. 

Piggy  sat  on  the  front  porch,  and 
reviewed  the  entire  affair.  It  began 
when  his  Heart's  Desire  had  fluttered 
into  his  autograph  album  with  a 
coy: 

"  When  this  you  see 
Remember  me." 

He  followed  the  corrugated  course 
of  true  love,  step  by  step  up  to  its 
climax,  where,  a  week  before,  she 
had  given  him  his  choice  of  her 
new  pack  of  assorted  visiting-cards. 
He  rose  at  the  end  of  five  minutes' 
sombre  meditation,  holding  the  curl 
ing  gelatine  card  of  his  choice  in 
his  warm  hand.  After  venting  a 
heavy  sigh,  he  checked  a  motion  to 
throw  away  the  token  of  his  undo- 
J59 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


ing  and  put  it  back  into  his  pocket. 
While  he  was  plotting  dark  things 
against  the  life  and  happiness  of 
Mealy  Jones,  Piggy  heard  the  sound 
of  the  merriment  within,  and  a  mis 
chievous  smile  spread  over  his  angry 
countenance.  He  tiptoed  to  the 
window,  and  peeped  in.  He  saw 
his  Heart's  Desire  sitting  alone. 
He  cheered  up  a  little,  not  much 
—  but  sufficiently  to  reach  in  his 
pocket  for  his  tick-tack. 

Now,  it  may  be  clearly  proved, 
if  necessary,  that  the  tick-tack  was 
invented  by  the  devil.  Any  wise 
man's  son  knows  that  every  boy  be 
tween  the  ages  of  ten  and  fourteen 
carries  with  him  at  all  times  a  com 
plete  outfit  of  the  mechanical  devices 
on  which  the  devil  holds  the  patent 
and  demands  a  royalty.  So  there  is 
nothing  really  strange  in  the  state- 
160 


A  little  maid  In  a  black-and-red  check. 


"  While  the  Evil  Days  come  not " 

ment  that  Piggy  Pennington  took 
from  his  Sunday  clothes,  beneath  a 
pocketful  of  Rewards  of  Merit  for 
regular  attendance  at  Sunday-school 
—  all  dated  before  the  Christmas- 
tree —  a  spool  with  notched  wheels, 
a  lead  pencil,  and  a  bit  of  fishline. 
The  line  wound  round  the  spool. 
Piggy  put  the  pencil  through  the  hole 
in  the  spool,  and  held  the  notched 
rims  of  the  spool  against  the  window 
pane  by  pressing  on  the  pencil  axle. 
He  gave  the  cord  a  quick  jerk ;  a 
rattle,  a  wail,  and  a  shriek  were  suc 
cessively  produced  by  the  notches 
whirring  on  the  glass.  The  com 
pany  within  doors  screamed.  Every 
one  knew  it  was  Piggy,  but  no  one 
ever  lived  with  nerves  strong  enough 
to  withstand  the  shock  of  a  tick- 
tack.  At  the  first  shock  those 
in-doors  decided  to  ignore  the  dis- 
163 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


turbance.  But  it  occurred  twice 
afterwards,  and  a  third  tick-tack  at 
a  party  is  a  dare.  So  the  boys  took 
it  up.  As  Piggy  ran  he  forgot  his 
hot,  heavy  shoes ;  he  felt  the  night 
wind  on  his  face  and  in  his  hair. 
He  cared  nothing  for  his  pursuers ; 
he  ran  for  the  gladness  that  came 
with  running.  Now  he  slackened 
his  pace  and  let  the  boys  catch  up 
with  him,  and  again  he  spread  the 
mocking  distance  between  them. 
He  turned  down  an  alley,  and  eluded 
the  pack. 

All  the  youngsters  at  the  party, 
even  the  girls,  had  scampered  out  of 
the  house  to  watch  the  race.  When 
Piggy  vaulted  the  back-yard  fence 
into  Miss  Morgan's  garden,  he  heard 
the  pursuers  half  a  block  away.  He 
saw,  a  hundred  feet  distant,  a  bevy 
of  girls  standing  on  the  sidewalk. 
164 


sat  on  the  front  porch ,  and  reviewed  the  entire 
affair. 


cc  While  the  Evil  Days  come  not " 

And  he  saw,  too,  as  he  came  skip 
ping  down  the  lot,  something  that 
made  him  fairly  skim  over  the 
earth ;  his  Heart's  Desire,  standing 
alone,  near  the  porch,  in  his  path,  un 
der  an  apple-tree.  The  exhilaration 
of  the  chase  had  made  him  for 
get  his  trouble.  He  was  so  sure 
footed  in  the  race  that  he  forgot  to 
be  abashed  for  the  moment  and  came 
bounding  down  by  the  apple-tree. 
He  was  full  of  pride.  When  he 
stopped  he  was  the  King  of  Boyville 
and  every  inch  a  king.  The  king 
—  not  Piggy  —  should  be  blamed. 
It  was  all  over  in  a  second  —  almost 
before  he  had  stopped.  He  aimed 
at  her  cheek,  but  he  got  her  ear. 
That  was  the  first  that  he  knew  of 
it.  Piggy  seemed  to  return  to  life 
then.  In  his  confusion  he  felt  him 
self  shrivelling  up  to  his  normal  size 
167 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


—  shrivelling  and  frying.  In  an  in 
stant  he  was  gone,  and  Piggy  Pen- 
nington  ran  into  the  group  of  girls 
on  the  sidewalk  and  let  them  catch 
him  and  hold  him.  The  breathless 
youths  went  into  the  house  telling 
their  adventures  in  the  race  between 
gasps.  But  Piggy  did  not  dare  to 
look  at  his  Heart's  Desire  for  as 
much  as  five  minutes  —  a  long,  long 
time.  No  one  had  seen  him  be 
neath  the  apple-tree.  He  was  not 
afraid  of  the  teasing,  but  he  was 
afraid  of  a  withering  look  from  his 
Heart's  Desire,  —  a  look  that  he  felt 
with  a  parching  fear  in  his  throat 
would  throw  the  universe  into  an 
eclipse  for  him.  He  observed  that 
she  got  up  and  changed  her  seat  to  be 
rid  of  Mealy  Jones.  At  first  Piggy 
thought  that  was  a  good  sign,  but  a 
moment  later  he  reasoned  that  the 

168 


"  While  the  Evil  Days  come  not " 

avoidance  of  Mealy  was  inspired 
probably  by  a  loathing  for  all  boys. 
He  dared  not  seek  her  eyes,  but  he 
mingled  noisily  in  the  crowd  for  a 
while,  and  then,  on  a  desperate  ven 
ture,  carelessly  snapped  a  peanut  shell 
and  hit  his  Heart's  Desire  on  the  chin. 
He  seemed  to  be  looking  a  thousand 
miles  away  in  another  direction  than 
that  which  the  missile  took.  He 
waited  nearly  a  minute — a  long, 
uncertain  minute  —  for  a  response. 

Then  the  shell  came  back;  it  did 
not  hit  him  —  but  it  might  have 
done  so  —  that  was  all  he  could  ask. 
He  snapped  shells  slyly  for  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  and  was  happy.  Once 
he  looked — not  exactly  looked; 
perhaps  peeked  is  the  better  word  ; 
took  just  the  tiniest  lightning  peek 
out  of  the  tail  of  his  eye,  and  ^ound 

a  smile  waiting  for  him.     At  supper, 
171 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


if  any  one  save  Piggy  had  tried  to 
take  a  chair  by  his  Heart's  Desire 
when  the  plates  came  around,  there 
would  have  been  a  fight.  Mealy 
Jones  knew  this,  and  he  knew  what 
Piggy  did  not  know,  that  it  would 
have  been  a  fight  of  two  against 
one.  So  Piggy  sat  bolt  upright  in 
his  chair  beside  the  black-and-red 
checked  dress,  and  talked  to  'the 
room  at  large ;  but  he  spoke  no 
word  to  the  maiden  at  his  side. 
She  noticed  that  Piggy  kept  drop 
ping  his  knife,  and  the  solicitude  of 
her  sex  prompted  her  to  ask  :  "Are 
your  hands  cold,  Winfield  ?  " 

And  the  instinct  of  his  sex  to  hide 
a  fault  with  a  falsehood  made  Piggy 
nod  his  head. 

Then  she  answered :  "  Cold  hands, 
a  warm  heart !  " 

At  this  important  bit  of  repartee, 
172 


At  this  important  bit  of  repartee. 


cc  While  the  Evil  Days  come  not " 

the  King  of  Boyville  so  forgot  his 
royal  dignity  that  he  let  an  orange- 
peel  drive  at  Jimmy  Sears,  and  pre 
tended  not  to  hear  her.  His  only 
reply  was  to  joggle  her  arm  when 
she  reached  for  the  cake.  Piggy 
was  so  exuberant  and  in  such  high 
spirits  that  he  put  his  plate  on  his 
chair  and  made  Bud  Perkins  walk 
turkey  fashion  three  times  around 
the  room.  He  forgot  the  disgrace 
which  his  note  had  brought  to  him 
in  the  school ;  he  forgot  the  preten 
sions  of  Mealy  Jones ;  he  did  not 
wish  to  forget  the  episode  of  the 
apple-tree,  and  for  the  time  Piggy 
Pennington  lived  in  a  most  peculiar 
world,  made  of  hazel  eyes  and  red- 
ribboned  pig-tails,  all  circling  around 
on  a  background  of  black-and-red 
checked  flannel. 

After  that  nothing  mattered  very 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


much.  It  did  n't  matter  that  Piggy's 
bruised  feet  began  to  sting  like  fire. 
It  did  n't  matter  much  if  Mealy 
Jones's  mother  did  come  for  him 
with  a  lantern  and  break  up  the 
party.  It  did  n't  matter  if  Jimmy 
Sears  did  call  out,  "  Hello,  Roses 
Red,''  when  the  boys  reached  the 
bed-room  where  their  hats  were ; 
for  a  voice  that  Piggy  knew  cried 
back  from  the  adjoining  room, 
"You  think  you  're  cute,  don't  you, 
old  smarty  ? "  Nothing  in  the 
world  could  matter  then,  for  had  not 
Piggy  Pennington  five  minutes  before 
handed  a  card  to  his  Heart's  Desire 
which  read: 


If  I  may  not  C  U  home 

may  I  not  sit  on  the  fence 
and  C  U  go  by? 


"  While  the  Evil  Days  come  not " 

And  had  not  she  taken  it,  and 
said  merrily,  "  I  'm  going  to  keep 
this  "  ?  What  could  matter  after  that 
open  avowal  ? 

And  so  it  came  to  pass  in  a  little 
while  that  the  courtly  company, 
headed  by  the  King  of  Boyville,  filed 
gayly  down  the  path.  They  walked 
two  by  two,  and  they  started  on  a 
long,  uneven  way.  But  the  King  of 
Boyville  was  full  of  joy — a  kind  of 
joy  so  strange  that  wise  men  may  not 
measure  it ;  a  joy  so  rare  that  even 
kings  are  proud  of  it. 


177 


JAMES   SEARS:   A   NAUGHTY 
PERSON 


LITTLE   SISTER'S   LULLABY 

Zhere,  zhere,  'ittul  b'o',  sistuh  '11  wock  you  to  s'eep, 

Hush-a-bye  O,  darlene,  wock-a-bye,  bV, 

An'  tell  you  the  stowy  about  the  b'ack  sheep  — 

Wock-a-bye,  my  'ittul  b'over. 

A  boy  onct  said  "  b'ack  sheep,  you  dot  any  wool  ? '* 

"  Uh-huhm,"  said  the  lambie,  "  I  dot  free  bags  full." 

An'  where  Murry  went  w'y  the  lamb  's  sure  to  doe, 

They  's  mowe  of  zis  stowy  —  I  dess  I  don'  know  j 

But  hush-a-bye  O,  darlene,  wock-a-bye  b'o', 

Wock-a-bye,  my  'ittul  b'over. 

O,  mama  says  buddy  tomed  stwaight  down  Tom  Dod  ; 

Hush-a-bye  O,  uh-huhm,  wock-a-bye  b'o', 

"At  doctuh  mans  bwunged  him,  now  is  n't  zhat  odd  — » 

Wock-a-bye,  my  'ittul  b'over. 

For  papa  says,  "  doctuhs  is  thiefs  so  zhey  be.** 

An'  thiefs  tain't  det  up  into  Heaven  you  see  : 

I  dess  w'en  one  comes  up  an'  dets  sent  below, 

He's  dot  to  bwing  wif  him  a  baby  or  so  ; 

Hush-a-bye  O,  uh-huhm,  wock-a-bye  bV, 

Wock-a-bye,  my  'ittul  b'over. 

But  sistuh  loves  b'o*  anyhow  if  he  *s  dood, 
Hush-a-bye  O,  sweetie,  wock-a-bye  b'o*, 
Better  'n  tandy  er  infalid's  food  — 
Wock-a-bye,  sistuh's  own  b'over. 
An*  some  day  when  buddy  drows  up  to  a  man, 
W'y  sistuh  an*  him  *ull  'ist  harness  ol'  Fan, 
An  dwive  off  to  Heaven  the  fuist  zhing  you  know, 
An'  bwing  ever'  baby  back  what  wants  to  doe. 
Zhen  hush-a-bye  O,  sweetie,  wock-a-bye  b'o', 
Wock-a-bye,  sistuh's  own  b'over. 


J4MES  5EAR5:AK«]GHTY  PERSON 


A  naughty  person  .  .  .  walketh  with  a  fro- 
ward  mouth. 

He  winketh  with  his  eyes,  he  speaketh  with 
his  feet,  he  teacheth  with  his  fingers;  ...  he 
deviseth  mischief  continually ;  .  .  . 

Therefore  shall  his  calamity  come  sud 
denly  ;  suddenly  shall  he  be  broken  without 
remedy.  —  Proverbs^  vi.  12-15. 

TT  was  morning  —  the  cool  of  the 

•*•  morning.  The  pigeons  were 
gossiping  under  the  barn  eaves.  In 
the  apple-tree  a  robin's  song  thrilled 
at  intervals,  and  the  jays  were  chat 
tering  incessantly  in  the  cherry-trees 
by  the  fence.  The  dew  was  still  on 
the  grass  that  lay  in  the  parallelo 
gram  of  shade  made  by  the  Sears' 
dwelling,  and  in  the  twilight  of 

181 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


grass-land  all  the  elf-people  were 
whispering  and  tittering  and  scam 
pering  about  in  surreptitious  revel. 
The  breeze  of  dawn,  tired  and  worn 
out,  was  sinking  to  a  fitful  doze  in 
the  cottonwood  foliage  near  by.  In 
the  lattice  of  the  kitchen  porch  two 
butterflies  were  chasing  the  sun  flecks 
in  and  out  among  the  branches  of 
the  climbing  rose.  Even  the  hum 
ble  burdock  weeds  and  sunflowers 
lining  the  path  that  led  to  the  gate 
seemed  to  be  exalted  by  the  breath 
of  the  morning  air,  and  not  out  of 
harmony  with  the  fine,  high  chord  of 
ecstasy  that  was  stirring  the  soul 
of  things.  And  yet  in  that  hour, 
James  Sears,  with  a  green-checked 
gingham  apron  tied  about  his  neck, 
stood  near  a  rain-barrel,  bobbing  up 
and  down  on  a  churn-handle.  His 

back  ached,  and  his  heart  was  full  of 

182 


His  heart  'was  full  of  bitterness. 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

bitterness  at  the  scheme  of  creation. 
For  it  was  Saturday  morning  —  his 
by  every  law,  precedent,  or  tradition 
known  or  reported  in  the  Court  of 
Boyville.  But  instead  of  inhaling 
the  joys  of  the  new  day,  James,  whose 
Courtly  name  was  "  Jimmie,"  looked 
for  yellow  granules  on  the  dasher, 
and  promised  God  if  He  would  let 
him  grow  up  that  his  little  boy  should 
never  have  to  churn. 

Any  boy  knows  that  it  is  a  degrad 
ing  thing  to  churn,  and  he  further 
knows  that  to  wear  a  green-checked 
gingham  apron  is  odious  beyond 
description  ;  however,  if  the  disgust 
ing  thing  is  tied  under  a  boy's  arms, 
from  whence  it  may  be  slipped  down 
over  the  hips  and  the  knees  to  the 
ground,  by  a  certain  familiar  twist  of 
the  body,  the  case  is  not  absolutely 
hopeless.  But  Jimmy  Sears's  apron 
185 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


strings  were  tied  about  his  neck ;  so 
his  despair  was  black  and  abysmal. 
Once  in  a  while  Jimmy's  bosom 
became  too  heavily  freighted,  and  he 
paused  to  sigh.  He  cheered  himself 
up  on  these  occasions  by  slyly  licking 
the  churn-dasher ;  but  the  good 
cheer  on  the  dasher  was  a  stimulant 
that  left  him  more  miserable  than  it 
found  him.  Ever  and  anon  from 
some  remote  chamber  in  the  house 
behind  him  came  the  faint,  gasping 
cry  of  a  day-old  baby.  That  cry 
drowned  the  cooing  of  the  doves, 
the  song  of  the  robin,  and  the  chirp 
ing  of  the  dwellers  in  the  grass  ;  to 
Jimmy  the  bleat  of  the  little  human 
lamb  sounded  like  the  roar  of  a  lion. 
He  could  endure  penal  servitude  on 
his  Saturday,  with  a  patience  born 
of  something  approaching  a  philoso 
phy  ;  he  could  wear  a  checked  ging- 


Throwing  sticks  in  the  'water  to  scare  the  fish 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

ham  apron,  even  as  a  saint  wears  an 
unbecoming  halo  ;  but  the  arrival  of 
the  new  baby — the  fifth  addition  to 
the  family  in  the  short  period  of 
years  covered  by  Jimmy  Sears's  mem 
ory  —  brought  a  bitter  pill  of  wrath 
and  dropped  it  in  the  youth's  brim 
ful  cup  of  woe.  As  the  minutes 
dragged  wrarily  along,  Jimmy  Sears 
reviewed  the  story  of  his  thraldom. 
He  thought  of  how,  in  his  short- 
dress  days,  he  had  been  put  to  rock 
ing  a  cradle  ;  how  in  his  kilted  days, 
there  had  been  ever  a  baby's  calico 
dress  to  consider ;  how,  from  his 
earliest  fishing-days,  there  had  been 
always  a  tot  tagging  after  him,  throw 
ing  sticks  and  stones  in  the  water  to 
scare  the  fish  ;  and  how,  now  in  his 
swimming  and  cave-dwelling  days, 
there  was  a  swarm  of  tow-headed 
Searses,  a  crawler,  a  creeper,  a  tod- 
189 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


dler,  a  stumbler,  and  a  sneaker  to  run 
away  from. 

As  the  churn-dasher  grew  heavier, 
the  wrath  in  Jimmy's  cup  began  to 
sputter,  dissolving  into  that  which 
in  his  older  sister's  heart  would  have 
been  tears ;  in  Jimmy's  heart,  it 
took  the  form  of  convulsive  sniffling. 
The  boy  could  hear  his  sister  clat 
tering  the  breakfast  dishes  in  the 
kitchen.  The  thing  that  ground 
upon  his  heart  was  the  firm  footfall 
of  Mrs.  Jones,  a  neighbor  woman, 
who  was  overseeing  the  affairs  of 
the  household.  Jimmy  could  not 
remember  hearing  that  footstep  ex 
cept  in  times  of  what  seemed  to  him 
to  be  the  family's  disgrace.  He  hated 
Mrs.  Jones  because  she  tried  to  cool 
his  ire  by  describing  the  superior 
points  of  the  particular  new  baby 

that  had  arrived  each  time  she  came 
190 


A  crawler, 


A  creeper, 


A  toddler, 


A  stumbler, 
t 


and 


A  sneaker. 


James  Sears  :  A  Naughty  Person 

upon  her  errands  of  neighborly  mercy. 
Just  as  the  yellow  granules  began  to 
appear  in  the  buttermilk  pool  on  the 
churn-top,  Jimmy  heard  a  step  on 
the  gravel  walk  behind  him.  The 
step  came  nearer ;  when  Jimmy 
lifted  his  eyes,  they  glared  into  the 
face  of  Harold  Jones.  Choler  cooled 
into  surprise,  and  surprise  exploded 
into  a  vapid,  grinning  "  Huh  !  " 
which  was  followed  by  another 
"Huh!"  that  gurgled  out  into  a 
real  laugh  as  Jimmy  greeted  the 
visitor.  The  Jones  boy  giggled,  and 
Jimmy  found  his  tongue  and  asked  : 
"  Did  you  ever  churn  ? "  When 
Harold  admitted  that  he,  too,  was 
a  slave  of  the  churn,  the  freemasonry 
of  Boyville  was  established.  A  mo 
ment  later  Mealy  —  Harold's  title  in 
the  Court  —  was  exemplifying  the 
work.  When  Mrs.  Jones  came  out 
193 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


of  the  house  to  take  care  of  the 
butter,  she  saw  her  son  and  Jimmy 
lying  on  the  grass.  Half  an  hour 
later  the  boys  in  the  barn  heard 
Mrs.  Jones's  voice  calling,  — 

"Harold,  O  Harold,  don't  you 
want  to  come  and  look  at  the 
baby  ? "  Now  James  Sears  in  the 
twenty-four  hours  of  his  new  sister's 
life  had  not  let  the  fact  of  her  exis 
tence  form  expression  on  his  lips. 
Much  less  had  he  lowered  his  hos 
tile  flag  to  salute  her ;  but  he  knew 
instinctively  that  Harold  Jones  was 
the  sort  of  a  boy  who  would  unsex 
himself  by  looking  at  a  baby.  When 
Mealy  answered,  "  Yes  'm,"  and  trot 
ted  down  the  back-yard  path  to  the 
kitchen,  Jimmy  Sears  scorned  him 
heartily  enough  to  fancy  Mealy  in 
the  act  of  holding  the  loathsome 
thing  in  his  arms.  Further  con- 
194 


James, 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

tumely  was  beyond  Jimmy's  imagi 
nation. 

When  Mealy  Jones  came  back, 
the  barn  wherein  he  had  left  Jimmy 
was  empty;  and  only  when  Mealy 
had  started  homeward,  and  a  clod 
came  whizzing  down  the  alley,  hit 
ting  him  under  the  ear,  did  Mealy 
know  how  Jimmy  Sears  resented  an 
insult.  Mealy  looked  around;  no 
one  was  in  sight. 

Right  here  the  reader  should 
know  that  Jimmy  Sears  was  not 
alone  in  his  displeasure.  There 
was  mutiny  in  the  Sears  household. 
When  the  baby  came,  the  four  elder 
of  the  seven  Sears  children  joined 
Jimmy  in  informal,  silent  sedition. 
They  looked  upon  the  newcomer  as 
an  intruder.  For  all  who  extended 
sympathy  to  the  pretender,  the 
insurgents  developed  a  wholesome 
197 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


scorn.  This  scorn  fell  most  heavily 
upon  kind  Mrs.  Jones.  The  Sears 
children  regarded  her  familiar  jocu 
larity  with  undisguised  repugnance ; 
and  when  Jimmy  heard  Mrs.  Jones 
tell  his  little  sister  Annie  that  morn 
ing  that  she  was  no  longer  the  baby, 
Jimmy's  rage  at  what  he  considered 
a  fiendish  thrust  at  the  innocent  and 
forsaken  child  passed  the  bounds  of 
endurance.  He  hurled  a  bit  of  that 
anger  in  the  clod  that  hit  Mealy 
Jones,  then  Jimmy  walked  doggedly 
back  to  the  house.  He  coaxed  the 
little  sister  from  the  kitchen,  took 
the  child's  chubby  hand  and  led  her 
to  the  barn.  There  Jimmy  nursed 
his  sorrow.  He  assured  the  younker 
as  they  sat  on  the  hay  that  he  for 
one  would  not  desert  her,  "  even  if 
mamma  had  forgotten  her."  He 
hugged  the  wondering  tot  until  her 
198 


Mrs.  Jones  came  out  to  take  care  of  the  butter. 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

ribs  hurt,  and  in  his  lamentations 
referred  to  the  new  baby  as  "  that 
old  thing."  The  evening  before, 
when  Mrs.  Jones  had  marshalled 
the  other  Sears  children  and  had 
taken  them  into  the  bedroom  to  see 
their  new  sister,  Jimmy  was  not  to 
be  found.  None  of  the  older  chil 
dren  had  looked  at  the  baby.  They 
had  turned  their  heads  away  deliber 
ately,  and  had  responded  in  gutteral 
affirmatives  when  they  were  asked  if 
it  were  not  a  pretty  baby.  But 
Jimmy  had  escaped  that  humilia 
tion,  and  since  then  he  had  avoided 
all  snares  set  to  lure  him  to  his 
mother's  bed-side.  He  sat  there  in 
the  barn,  fuming  as  he  recalled  what 
he  had  heard  while  Annie  was  in  his 
mother's  room  early  that  morning. 

"See    little    sister's    hands.       Oh, 
what   pretty   hands !  "     Jimmy   had 


2OI 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


reasoned,  and  probably  correctly,  that 
the  pause  was  rilled  by  the  child's 
big-eyed  astonishment.  Mrs.  Jones 
continued,  — 

"Weenty  teenty  little  feets!  See 
little  sister's  toeses.  What  little  bit- 
sey  toeses.  Baby  touch  little  sister's 
toeses/' 

Jimmy  had  chafed  while  he  lis 
tened  ;  but  now  that  the  scene  came 
to  him  after  reflection,  he  saw  how 
inhuman  a  thing  it  was  to  dupe  the 
child  into  an  affection  for  her  inevi 
table  enemy. 

"Does  baby  love  little  sister?" 
continued  the  voice.  "Love  nice, 
pretty  little  sister !  Sweet  little  sis 
ter  !  Zhere  !  Zhere  !  Zhat  's  right ; 
love  little  sister ! "  As  he  toyed  with 
a  wisp  of  hay,  Jimmy  Sears's  blood 
froze  in  his  veins  at  the  recollection 
that  his  own  mother  had  lent  her 

202 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

countenance  to  this  baseness.  He 
knew,  and  he  knew  that  his  mother 
knew,  that  the  baby  would  take  all 
the  care  due  to  his  toddling  sister. 
He  saw,  from  the  elevation  of  the 
hay-cock  on  which  he  and  the  little 
one  sat,  that  her  throat  had  been  cut 
in  a  cowardly  manner  while  she 
smiled.  It  seemed  deliberately  cruel. 
A  lump  of  pity  for  the  child  filled 
his  throat.  Still,  in  his  heart,  he 
forgave  his  mother  for  her  part  in 
the  duplicity.  He  did  not  feel  for 
her  the  contempt  he  felt  for  Henry 
Sears,  his  father ;  for  the  boy  knew 
that  Henry  Sears  was  actually  proud 
of  the  family's  ignominy.  Jimmy 
blushed  at  the  picture  in  his  mind 
of  his  father  strutting  around  town, 
with  his  vest  pockets  full  of  cigars, 
and  his  thumbs  in  the  armpits,  brag 
ging  of  the  occurrence  that  filled  the 
205 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


boy  with  shame.  Jimmy  felt  that 
secretly  his  mother  did  not  consider 
the  baby's  arrival  an  occasion  for 
vainglory.  He  felt  that  his  mother 
was  merely  putting  a  good  face 
upon  the  misfortune.  These  re 
flections  kept  Jimmy  quiet  for  ten 
minutes. 

At  the  end  thereof  a  calamitous 
fate  took  him  up  and  made  him  its 
toy.  Tragedy  is  the  everlasting  pil 
ing  up  of  little  things.  So  Jimmy 
Sears  could  not  know  that  an  evil 
destiny  had  come  to  guide  his  steps 
when  he  started  townward,  for  it 
came  so  gently.  To  meet  Piggy 
Pennington  and  Bud  Perkins  and 
Abe  Carpenter  coming  out  of  the 
Pennington  yard  was  not  such  a 
dreadful  thing.  Jimmy  had  met 
them  a  score  of  times  before  at  that 
particular  gate,  with  no  serious  con- 
206 


.s 

1$ 


JH 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

sequences.  It  was  not  in  the  least 
ominous  that  the  four  boys  started 
for  the  Creek  of  the  Willows,  for 
Jimmy  had  gone  to  the  Creek  times 
without  number  in  that  very  com 
pany.  It  did  not  augur  evil  for 
Jimmy  Sears  that  the  lot  fell  to  him 
to  go  forth  and  forage  a  chicken,  for 
the  great  corn  feast  of  the  Black 
Feet,  a  savage  tribe  of  four  war 
riors,  among  whom  Jimmy  was 
known  as  the  "  Bald  Eagle."  Per 
haps  there  were  signs  and  warnings 
in  all  these  things  ;  and  then,  on  the 
other  hand,  perhaps  Jimmy  Sears 
was  so  intent  upon  escaping  from 
the  shadow  that  lowered  over  his 
family  that  he  did  not  read  the  signs, 
and  so  rushed  into  his  misfortunes 
blindly.  These,  however,  are  idle 
speculations ;  they  are  the  materials 
from  which  sages  spin  their  dry  and 
209 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


ethereal  webs.  But  this  narrative  is 
concerned  only  with  the  facts  in  the 
case.  Therefore  it  is  necessary  to 
know  only  that  when  Jimmy  Sears 
stooped  to  pick  up  his  nail-pointed 
arrow,  lying  beside  a  stunned  pullet, 
he  heard  the  sharp  nasal  "  sping  " 
of  a  rock  whirring  near  his  head. 
Chicken  and  bow  and  arrow  in 
hand,  he  began  to  run,  not  looking 
back. 

"  Here,  here,  Jimmy  Sears,  hold 
on  there  !  "  cried  a  voice.  Jimmy 
knew  the  voice.  It  and  the  chicken 
belonged  to  the  same  person.  So 
Jimmy  quickened  his  speed.  He 
heard  the  clattering  thump  of  pur 
suing  feet.  It  was  two  hundred 
yards  to  the  end  of  the  cob-strewn 
cow  lot.  The  boy  fixed  his  course 
toward  the  lowest  length  of  fence. 
Then  he  kept  his  eyes  upon  the 


210 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

ground.  He  clenched  his  teeth  and 
skimmed  over  the  earth.  The  feath 
ers  in  his  hat  —  stuck  there  to  satisfy 
the  verities  of  his  assumed  Indian 
character  —  caught  the  breeze  ;  so, 
rather  than  lose  his  hat,  he  grabbed 
it  in  the  hand  that  held  the  chicken. 
He  cleared  the  fence  and  plunged 
into  the  timber.  Looking  over  his 
shoulder,  he  saw  a  man's  form  on 
the  top  of  the  fence;  the  thud  of 
boots  on  the  sod  and  the  crash  of 
branches  behind  him  sent  terror 
through  the  boy's  frame,  and  he 
turned  towards  the  creek  that  flowed 
sluggishly  near  by.  He  took  great 
bounding  strides,  throwing  his  head 
from  side  to  side  as  he  ran.  The 
boy  knew  the  path.  It  led  to  a 
rickety  fence  —  a  cattle  guard  — 
across  the  river.  Jimmy's  heart  beat 
wildly,  and  the  trees  danced  by  him 
213 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


on  the  sloping  path.  But  he  was 
not  "  the  champeen  fence-walker  of 
Willow  Creek,"  late  of  "  Penning- 
ton  &  Carpenter's  Circus  &  Men 
agerie,  price  ten  pins,"  without 
having  won  his  proud  place  by  prow 
ess.  He  came  to  the  water's  edge 
with  sure  feet.  He  knew  that  he 
could  cross.  He  had  crossed  the 
creek  there  a  score  of  times.  He 
jumped  for  the  slanting  boards  with 
his  bare  feet,  and  his  heart  was  glad. 
The  boy  was  sure  that  no  man  would 
dare  to  follow  him,  even  if  the  fence 
would  .hold  a  man's  weight.  He 
had  scurried  up  the  bank  before  his 
pursuer  had  reached  the  side  Jimmy 
had  leaped  from  so  lightly.  He 
scooted  through  the  underbrush. 
Again  and  again  did  the  "champeen 
fence- walker  "  smile  to  himself  as 

he    slackened   his  pace   to   dodge  a 
214 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

volley  of  rocks,  and  again  and  again 
did  James  Sears  —  an  exemplary 
youth  for  the  most  part,  who  knew 
his  Ten  Commandments  by  heart — 
look  exultingly  at  his  pullet.  He 
gloried  in  his  iniquity.  Lentulus 
returning  to  Capua  with  victorious 
legions  was  not  so  proud.  But  there 
the  evil  spirit  swooped  low  upon 
him  —  the  spirit  of  destruction  that 
always  follows  pride.  Jimmy  tripped, 
and  lunged  forward ;  the  chicken, 
the  hat,  the  bow  and  arrow,  and  the 
boy  all  parted  company.  Then 
Jimmy  felt  a  pain  —  a  sharp  pain 
that  he  recognized  too  well.  He 
feared  to  make  sure  of  the  extent  of 
his  injury.  Instinctive  knowledge 
told  him  he  had  "  stumped "  his 
toe.  This  knowledge  also  brought 
the  sense  of  certainty  that  his  day's 
pleasure  was  spoiled.  He  knew 
217 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


that  he  would  go  hobbling  along, 
the  last  brave  in  the  Indian  file.  The 
pain  in  his  foot  began  to  throb  as 
he  gathered  up  his  weapons.  He 
walked  for  a  few  moments  without 
looking  at  the  wound.  He  felt  the 
oozing  blood,  and  he  bent  his  body 
and  went  along,  grunting  at  every 
step.  Finally  coming  into  a  flood 
of  sunlight  on  the  path,  he  sat  on  a 
log  and  slowly  lifted  up  his  foot, 
twisting  his  face  into  an  agonized 
knot.  He  peeked  at  his  toe  at  first 
stealthily  ;  then  little  by  little  uncov 
ering  it  with  his  nursing  hand,  he 
gazed  fixedly  at  the  wound.  The 
flesh  on  the  end  of  the  toe  was  hang 
ing  loosely  by  the  skin.  It  was  a 
full  minute  before  the  boy  could  find 
courage  to  press  the  hanging  flesh 
back  to  its  place.  In  the  mean  time 
the  chicken,  which  lay  behind  him 
218 


He  sat  on  a  log  and  slowly  lifted  up  his  foot ,  twisting  his 
face  into  an  agonized  knot. 


James  Sears  :  A  Naughty  Person 

under  the  log,  had  regained  its  senses, 
squawked  hoarsely  twice,  and  walked 
into  the  bushes.  When  Jimmy's 
mind  turned  to  his  prize,  the  prize 
was  gone.  He  had  been  in  the 
depths  as  he  sat  on  the  log.  But  the 
loss  of  the  pullet  brought  with  it  a 
still  further  depression,  and  Jimmy 
forgot  all  about  his  impersonation 
of  the  "Bald  Eagle."  He  lost  his 
conceit  in  the  red  ochre  stripes  on 
his  face,  and  the  iridescent  feathers 
in  his  hat,  and  the  blue-black  mud 
on  his  nimble  feet.  For  a  few  mo 
ments  he  was  just  a  sad-eyed  boy 
who  saw  the  hand  of  the  whole 
world  raised  against  him.  The  cry 
of  the  new  baby  rang  in  his  ears. 
The  thought  of  the  other  boys  teas 
ing  him  about  the  number  of  babies 
at  his  house  frenzied  him ;  and  as 
his  bills  of  wrongs  grew  longer  and 

221 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


longer,  Jimmy  shook  his  head  de 
fiantly  at  all  the  world.  For  a  few 
hollow  moments  Jimmy  tried  to  find 
the  straying  chicken.  He  went 
through  the  empty  form  of  spitting 
in  his  hand,  saying,  before  he  came 
down  with  his  index  finger,  — 

"  Spit,  spit,  spy, 

Tell  me  whur  my  chicken  is,  er  I  '11  hit  ye 
in  the  eye." 

He  threw  a  stick  in  the  direction 
the  chicken  might  have  taken,  but 
he  knew  that  luck — like  all  the 
world  —  was  against  him,  and  he 
had  no  heart  in  the  rites  that  on 
another  day  might  have  brought  for 
tune  to  him.  His  stubbed  toe  was 
hurting  him,  and  the  murmur  of  a 
ripple  in  the  stream  a  few  rods  be 
low  the  cattle  guard  called  to  him 
enticingly.  As  soon  as  the  boy 


222 


"  Spitt  spitf  spy,  tell  me  ivhur  my  chicken  is, 
I  '//  hit  ye  in  the  eye.'''' 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

deemed  it  safe  to  venture  out  of  the 
thicket,  he  hobbled  down  to  the 
water's  edge,  and  sat  for  a  long  time 
in  the  shade,  with  the  cooling  water 
laving  his  bruised  feet.  He  knew 
that  the  other  boys  would  miss  him, 
but  he  did  not  care.  He  was  en 
joying  the  gloom  that  was  settling 
down  upon  him.  Slowly,  and  by  al 
most  imperceptible  degrees,  there  rose 
in  his  consciousness  the  conviction  of 
guilt.  At  the  end  of  an  hour,  the 
feeling  that  he  was  a  thief  swept 
over  him,  covering  his  sense  of  per 
sonal  grievance  like  a  mantle.  For 
another  hour  he  wrestled  with  a 
persistent  devil  that  was  tempting 
him  to  strangle  his  scruples ;  he 
won.  Jimmy  Sears  had  seventeen 
cents  in  his  cast-iron  bank  at  home 
—  the  result  of  a  year's  careful  sav 
ing.  He  crossed  the  creek  and 
225 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


trudged  back  to  town,  and  fancied 
that  he  was  walking  in  a  sanctified 
road ;  for  he  was  full  of  the  resolve 
to  go  straight  to  the  store  of  the 
grocer  who  owned  the  chicken,  and 
to  offer  all  his  available  resources 
in  payment  for  the  wrong  he  had 
done.  Only  the  heel  of  his  left  foot 
touched  the  ground,  and  he  pro 
gressed  slowly.  So  the  afternoon 
was  old  when  he  turned  the  cornel 
and  trudged  into  Baker's  store.  The 
speech  he  was  going  to  make, 
Jimmy  had  recited  to  himself  over 
and  over.  He  intended  to  walk  up 
to  the  counter  and  say,  — 

"  I  want  to  pay  for  that  chicken 
I  took,  Mr.  Baker." 

To    Jimmy    that    sounded    suffi 
ciently  humble,  and  yet   it  did  not 
seem  completely  abject.     He  fancied 
the  grocer  would  reply,  — 
226 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

"  All  right,  Jimmy ;  it  will  be 
twenty  cents." 

To  which  the  boy  expected  to 
answer,  in  a  clear,  strong  voice,  — 

"Well,  Mr.  Baker,  I  have  seven 
teen  cents  at  home  ;  you  may  have 
that,  and  I  will  bring  in  the  rest  as 
soon  as  my  mushmelons  are  ripe." 

With  that  agreement  reached, 
Jimmy  saw  himself  limping  out  of 
the  store.  He  harbored  a  hope  that 
maybe  the  grocer,  pitying  the  poor, 
lame  boy,  would  call  him  back,  can 
cel  the  debt,  and  perhaps  give  him  a 
stick  of  licorice.  Jimmy  knew  his 
part  by  heart.  He  was  sure  there 
would  be  no  halt  nor  break  in  this 
dialogue.  But  the  demon  that  was 
torturing  his  destiny  that  day  prob 
ably  chuckled  as  Jimmy  crossed  the 
threshold  of  the  grocery  store. 

The  boy  that  the  grocer  saw  when 
227 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


he  looked  up  from  the  pickle  barrel 
certainly  had  a  badly  freckled  face  ; 
the  grocer  thought  the  boy  had 
bold,  mean  eyes.  The  youthful  jaw 
set  firmly,  and  the  pain  in  his  foot 
engraved  ugly  lines  in  his  face.  The 
button  was  off  one  wristband.  A 
long  tear  down  the  lower  part  of  his 
trousers'  leg  revealed  a  glimpse  of 
brown,  tanned  skin.  He  was  not  a 
boy  that  looked  like  a  creature  of 
dreams  and  of  high  resolve.  No 
boy  that  amounts  to  much  ever  does 
look  the  part,  as  the  actors  say.  So 
when  Jimmy  Sears  —  ragged  and 
brazen  —  stood  before  the  wronged 
chicken  owner,  rage  flooded  the 
man's  bosom.  He  rushed  around 
the  counter  end,  mumbling  at  the 
boy.  The  instinct  of  fear  crowded 
all  the  fine  speeches  out  of  Jimmy's 

head.       He    backed    off,    and    ex- 
228 


i 

i 


I 
§ 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

,  j 

claimed,  as  he  saw  the  grocer  grab  a 
butter  paddle,  — 

"  Dern  you,  don't  you  touch  me; 
I  '11  pay  for  your  old  chicken.  Watch 
out  now !  " 

Two  scale  weights  slipped  invol 
untarily  into  Jimmy's  hands,  and  he 
backed  from  the  counter  to  the  side 
walk.  His  hands  were  uplifted  as 
if  to  throw  the  weights.  The 
grocer  had  not  come  up  to  the  boyt 
who  shouted  in  a  burst  of  fear  and 
anger,— 

"  I  '11  pay  for  your  chicken,  I  say. 
Now  you  keep  away  from  me  !  ' 

The  grocer  hesitated,  dismayed 
for  a  second  by  the  threatening 
weights  in  the  boy's  hand.  But 
pride  urged  the  man  on.  He  stepped 
up  quickly,  and  planted  a  smarting 
blow  on  Jimmy's  leg.  It  was  well 
for  the  grocer  that  he  ducked  his 
231 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


head  ;  for  when  the  paddle  struck, 
the  boy  did  not  flinch,  but  let  drive 
one  weight  after  another,  and  cried 
before  each  crash  of  glass  that  the 
flying  irons  made  inside  the  store, 
"  Yes,  you  will !  "  and  again,  "  Yes, 
you  will !  " 

He  forgot  the  ache  in  his  cramped 
heel  and  the  burning  in  his  bruised 
toe  as  he  ran  to  the  middle  of  the 
street. 

"  You  old  coward,  why  don't  you 
pick  on  some  one  your  size  ? " 

The  tears  were  rising  to  his  eyes  ; 
he  had  to  run  to  escape  from  the 
tide.  Just  as  he  turned,  he  caught 
a  glimpse  of  his  father  joining  the 
gathering  crowd.  After  that  his 
feet  grew  wings. 

A  freight  train  stood  on  the  track 
in  front  of  the  boy,  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  away.  A  mad  impulse  came 
232 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

to  him  as  he  ran,  and  he  yielded  to 
it.  A  boy  with  a  grievance,  or  a 
boy  with  a  sore  toe,  or  a  boy  with 
fear  at  his  back,  cannot  fashion  his 
conduct  after  the  beautiful  principles 
laid  down  in  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer's 
"  Data  of  Ethics."  So  when  Jimmy 
Sears  came  to  the  freight  train  that 
blocked  his  flight,  he  darted  down 
the  track  until  he  was  out  of  sight 
of  any  possible  pursuers  in  the  street. 
He  clambered  breathlessly  into  a 
coal  car,  and  snuggled  down  into  a 
corner  inside  a  little  strip  of  shade, 
and  panted  like  a  hunted  rabbit.  A 
sickening  pain  throbbed  up  from  his 
toe.  The  train  moved  slowly  at 
first,  and  Jimmy  knew  that  he  could 
not  hide  from  the  train  men  in  a 
coal  car.  On  a  banter  from  Piggy 
Pennington  and  Bud  Perkins  Jimmy 
had  ridden  on  the  brake-beam  while 
233 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


the  switch  engine  was  pulling  freight 
cars  about  the  railroad  yards.  He 
had  a  vague  idea  that  midway  of  the 
train,  between  two  box  cars,  would 
be  a  safe  place.  When  the  train 
began  to  increase  its  speed,  Jimmy 
climbed  up  the  side  of  a  cattle  car 
and  ran  along  the  roof.  He  had 
gone  three  car-lengths  and  was 
about  to  make  his  third  jump, 
when  he  saw  the  angry  face  of 
his  father,  who  appeared  on  the 
depot  platform.  Instinctively  the 
boy  darted  to  the  other  side  of 
the  car-roof.  His  jump  fell  short. 
The  father  saw  his  son's  head  go 
down,  and  for  an  awful  minute 
Henry  Sears  heard  the  lumbering 
train  rumble  by.  In  the  first  second 
of  that  minute,  the  frantic  man  lis 
tened  for  a  scream.  He  heard  none. 
Then  slowly  he  sank  upon  a  baggage 
234 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

truck.  He  was  helpless.  A  paral 
ysis  of  horror  was  upon  him.  Car 
after  car  jolted  along.  At  last  the 
yellow  caboose  flashed  by  him.  Half 
of  the  longest  second  Henry  Sears 
ever  knew  passed  before  he  dared 
turn  his  eyes  toward  the  place  on  the 
track  where  his  son  went  down. 
Then  he  looked,  and  saw  only  the 
cinder  track  and  the  shining  rails. 
But  an  instant  later  he  heard  a  famil 
iar  whoop,  and,  staring  around,  saw 
Jimmy  sitting  on  a  load  of  wheat 
that  was  standing  between  the  rail 
road  tracks.  In  this  the  boy  had 
fallen  after  his  sidewise  jump  had 
thrown  him  from  the  moving  train. 
When  Henry  Sears  saw  his  son, 
Jimmy  was  holding  his  foot,  jig 
gling  it  vigorously  and  roaring, 
moved  half  by  the  hysteria  of  fright 
and  half  by  the  pain  of  a  fresh  lacer- 
235 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


ation  of  his  bruised  toe.  The  boy's 
face  was  black  with  coal-dust  and 
wheat  chaff,  and  tears  were  striping 
his  features  grotesquely.  The  palsy 
of  terror  loosened  its  steel  bands 
from  the  father's  limbs,  and  he  ran 
to  the  wheat  wagon.  Jimmy  Sears, 
for  all  he  or  his  father  know,  may 
have  floated  to  the  ground  from  the 
wagon  bed.  But  a  moment  later, 
in  a  frenzy  wherein  anger  furnished 
only  a  sub-conscious  motor,  and  joy 
pumped  wildly  at  the  expanding 
valves  of  his  blissful  heart,  Henry 
Sears  took  his  thirteen-year-old  son 
across  his  knee,  and  spanked  him  in 
a  delirium  of  ecstasy  ;  spanked  him 
merrily,  while  a  heavenly  peace  glo 
rified  his  paternal  soul ;  spanked  him, 
caring  not  how  many  times  the  little 
body  wriggled,  and  the  little  voice 
howled,  and  the  dirty  little  fingers 
236 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

foiled  his  big,  bony  hand  as  it  fell. 
At  the  end  of  the  felicitous  occasion, 
the  father  found  his  voice,  — 

"  Have  n't  I  told  you  enough,  sir, 
to  keep  off  the  cars  ?  Have  n't  I  ? 
Have  n't  I  ?  Answer  me,  sir.  Do 
you  hear  me  ?  Have  n't  I  ?  " 

And  Jimmy  Sears  knew  by  that 
turn  of  the  conversation  that  the  epi 
sodes  of  the  stolen  chicken  and  of 
the  broken  showcases  were  forgot 
ten,  so  he  nodded  a  contrite  head. 
His  father  returned  to  earth  by  giv 
ing  his  son  a  few  casual  cuffs,  with, 
"  Will  you  try  that  again,  sir  ?  "  and 
continued,  — 

"  Now,  sir,  let  me  see  you  walk 
right  straight  home.  And  just  you 
let  me  catch  you  down  here  again  !  " 

Jimmy  was  wise  enough  to  hurry 
along  as  fast  as  his  bleeding  foot 
would  take  him.  He  saw  the  ad- 
237 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


vantage  of  a  motion  to  adjourn  with 
out  further  debate,  and  the  motion 
prevailed. 

An  hour  later,  Jimmy  Sears  had 
washed  the  dirt  from  the  interior  of 
an  irregular  circumference  that 
touched  his  ears  and  his  chin  and 
his  hair.  Until  the  twilight  fell  he 
stayed  in  the  conning-tower  in  the 
Penningtons'  barn,  and  watched  his 
home  through  a  crack  between  two 
boards.  When  he  saw  his  father 
leave  the  house  for  town  after  sup 
per,  Jimmy  hurried  down  a  lane  in 
sight  of  his  father,  yet  out  of  his 
father's  reach.  At  the  close  of  twi 
light,  Jimmy  Sears  came  up  the 
hard-beaten  path  that  led  to  his 
home,  through  burdock  weeds  and 
sunflowers.  There  was  a  light  in 
the  kitchen,  and  through  the  win 
dow  he  could  see  Mrs.  Jones  moving 
238 


An  irregular  circumference  that  touched  his  ears  an& 
his  chin  and  his  hair. 


James  Sears  :  A  Naughty  Person 

about.  He  observed  that  the  supper 
dishes  were  being  put  away.  He 
saw  his  eldest  sister,  with  the  tea 
towel  in  her  hands,  chatting  happily 
with  Mrs.  Jones.  The  spectacle 
filled  him  with  rage.  He  felt  that 
the  other  children  had  deserted  him, 
and  that,  in  the  war  against  the  new 
baby,  they  had  left  him  to  fight  un 
aided.  He  met  a  little  brother,  who 
greeted  him  with,  — 

"  Uh-hu,  Mr.  Jimmy,  you  just 
wait  till  pa  gets  you  !  " 

A  prolonged  and  scornful  "  Aw  !  " 
was  Jimmy's  reply  to  this  welcome. 
On  the  step  of  the  back  porch,  his 
favorite  little  sister  sat  playing  with 
the  house-cat.  She  toddled  to 
Jimmy;  he  let  her  take  his  finger, 
and  they  went  into  the  kitchen. 

"  Oh,  Jimmy  !  —  where  —  you 
—  been  ? "  demanded  the  eldest  sister. 

241 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


"  Mamma  's  been  asking  for  you  all 
day.  I  'd  be  ashamed  if  I  was  you.'' 

The  boy  did  not  deign  to  speak  to 
Mrs.  Jones,  and  kept  his  back  to  her 
when  he  could.  He  did  not  answer 
his  sister's  question. 

"  Got  anything  here  fit  to  eat  ?  " 
he  asked,  as  he  threw  open  the  cup 
board  doors.  The  insult  to  Mrs. 
Jones  was  not  accidental.  Jimmy 
supposed  that  she  had  cooked  the 
supper.  He  put  two  or  three 
plates  of  food  on  the  table,  and 
drew  up  a  chair,  sneering  bump 
tiously,  "What's  this?"  as  he  dived 
into  each  dish. 

His  sister's  "  Why,  Jimmy  !  "  and 
her  warning  frowns  did  not  change 
his  course.  Mrs.  Jones  went  to  the 
front  of  the  house,  diplomatically 
leaving  all  the  doors  open  behind 

her,  that  Mrs.  Sears  might  hear  her 

242 


"  Got  anything  here  fit  to  eat?"* 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

son's  voice.  In  a  moment  the  boy 
caught  the  faint  sound  of  his  mother 
calling  from  the  distant  bedroom, 
"  Jimmy,  Jimmy,  come  here ;  I 
want  you." 

The  boy  pretended  not  to  hear. 
She  called  his  name  again.  "  Yes  'm," 
he  answered.  When  she  repeated 
her  request,  he  filled  his  mouth  with 
pie,  and  replied,  "  I  'm  a-eatin'  now." 
He  slipped  a  piece  of  ice  down  the 
back  of  his  adoring  little  sister's 
dress,  who  sat  near  him.  When  she 
wept  noisily,  he  laughed  under  his 
breath,  and  spoke  aloud  to  his  sister 
at  the  dish-pan,  — 

"  What  'd  you  want  to  take  An 
nie's  doll  away  from  her  for  ?  Give 
it  back,  why  don't  you  ?  " 

«  Why  —  Jimmy  —  Sears  !  "  re 
torted  the  girl.  Then  lifting  her 
voice,  "  Mamma,  Jimmy  's  put  ice 
245 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


down "      But  the   lad   pressed 

the  ice  against  the  child's  back,  pre 
tending  to  be  removing  the  source 
of  the  trouble,  and  the  child's  lusty 
howls  drowned  the  girl's  protest. 
When  he  heard  the  bedroom  door 
close  to  shield  his  mother  from  the 
turmoil,  Jimmy  knew  that  he  had 
outwitted  Mrs.  Jones,  so  he  quelled 
the  disturbance  he  had  caused.  When 
Mrs.  Jones  returned  to  the  kitchen, 
the  boy  was  sitting  on  the  porch 
steps  with  his  little  sister,  telling  her 
about  "  raw  head  and  bloody  bones/' 
greatly  to  the  child's  horror  and 
delight. 

Jimmy  heard  his  elder  sister  in 
quire,  "  Did  Mamma  eat  her  sup 
per  ? "  He  heard  Mrs.  Jones  re 
spond,  "  Not  very  much  of  it ;  but 
she  will  after  a  while,  I  guess.  She 

said  to  leave  it  in  there." 
246 


James  Sears  :  A  Naughty  Person 

"  Could  n't  she  eat  any  of  that 
nice  chicken  Mrs.  Pennington 
sent  ? " 

"  No,  nor  Mrs.  Carpenter's  lemon 
jelly." 

"  Poor  mamma  !  "  sighed  the  girl. 

But  Jimmy  had  other  reflections. 
Two  minutes  later  he  walked  past 
his  mother's  open  door,  and  fumbled 
around  in  the  sitting-room. 

"  Is  that  you,  Jimmy  ?  "  asked 
his  mother. 

"  Yes  'm,"  rejoined  the  boy. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  " 

"  Lookin'  for  my  other  coat." 

"  Won't  you  come  in  and  see  me, 
Jimmy  ?  I  have  n't  seen  you  for 
two  whole  days." 

"  In  a  minute,"  returned  Jimmy. 

Standing  awkwardly  in  the  door 
way,  he  asked,  "  What  'd  you 

want  ?  " 

249 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


"  Come  over  here,  Jimmy,"  re 
turned  the  mother.  "  My  poor, 
neglected  boy  !  '  He  would  not  let 
his  eyes  find  the  new  baby.  He 
stood  stiffly  on  one  foot,  and  gave 
his  mother  his  hand.  She  drew  him 
down  and  kissed  his  cheek,  while  he 
pecked  at  her  lips.  As  Jimmy  rose, 
his  mother  smiled. 

"  Are  you  hungry,  Jimmy  ? " 

The  boy  nodded  a  vociferous 
affirmative.  Being  a  boy,  one  of  the 
lowest  orders  of  human  creatures  in 
point  of  intuitions,  Jimmy  could  not 
know  that  his  mother  understood  the 
rankle  in  her  son's  heart.  Nor  could 
he  divine  that  she  kept  the  supper 
dainties  as  peace  offerings. 

"  Won't  you  have  some  of  my 
supper  ?" 

"  Don't  you  want  it  ?  "  returned 
the  boy,  to  justify  his  greed. 
250 


She  drew  him  down  and  kissed  his  cheek  while  he 
pecked  at  her  lips. 


James  Sears :  A  Naughty  Person 

"  No,  Jimmy  ;  I  'm  not  hungry. 
I  kept  it  all  for  you." 

While  her  son  was  sitting  on  the 
floor,  eating  off  the  tray  on  the  chair 
by  the  bed,  his  mother's  hand  was  in 
his  hair,  stroking  it  lovingly.  His 
sister  and  the  other  children  looked 
in  and  saw  him.  Jimmy  knew  they 
were  whispering  "Hoggy  !  "  but  he 
did  not  heed  them.  His  mother 
avoided  mentioning  the  new  baby  to 
him ;  she  made  him  tell  her  about 
his  sore  toe,  and  in  return  she  told 
him  how  lonely  she  had  been  with 
out  him. 

As  his  stomach  filled,  his  heart 
overflowed, — a  common  coincidence 
even  with  older  and  better  boys  than 
Jimmy,  and  the  tears  came  to  his 
eyes.  At  last,  when  the  plate  was 
cleared,  he  rose,  and  went  to  the 
place  where  the  new-comer  lay.  He 
2S3 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


bent  over  the  little  puff  in  the  bed 
clothes,  and  grinned  sheepishly  as  he 
lifted  the  cover  from  the  sleeping 
baby's  face.  He  looked  at  the  red 
features  a  moment  curiously,  and  said 
2n  his  loud,  husky,  boyish  voice,  — 

"  Hullo  there,  Miss  Sears ;  how 
are  you  this  evenin'  ?" 

Then  he  pinched  his  mother's  arm 
and  walked  out  of  the  room,  his  soul 
at  peace. 


254 


"^iiiis'^'5^''"' 


Piggy  Pennington  ....  galloped  his  father  s  fat  delivery  horse 
up  and  down  the  alley. 


MUCH   POMP   AND   SEVERAL 
CIRCUMSTANCES 


Much  Pomp  and  Several 
Circumstances 

BACK  of  Pennington's  barn, 
which  was  the  royal  castle 
of  the  Court  of  Boyville,  ran  a  hol 
low.  In  the  hollow  grew  a  gnarly 
box-elder  tree.  This  tree  was  the 
courtiers'  hunting-lodge.  In  the 
crotches  of  the  rugged  branches 
Piggy  Pennington,  Abe  Carpenter, 
Jimmy  Sears,  Bud  Perkins,  and 
Mealy  Jones  were  wont  to  rest  of  a 
summer  afternoon,  recounting  the 
morning's  adventures  in  the  royal 
tourney  of  the  marble-ring,  planning 
for  the  morrow's  chase,  meditat 
ing  upon  the  evil  approach  of  the 
fall  school  term,  and  following  such 
259 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


sedentary  pursuits  as  to  any  member 
of  the  court  seemed  right  and 
proper.  One  afternoon  late  in 
August  the  tree  was  alive  with  its 
arboreal  aristocracy.  Abe  Carpenter 
sat  on  the  lowest  branch,  plaiting  a 
four-strand,  square-braided  "quirt"  ; 
Jimmy  Sears  was  holding  the  ends. 
Piggy  was  casually  skinning  cats, 
hanging  by  his  legs,  or  chinning  on 
an  almost  horizontal  limb,  as  he  took 
his  part  in  the  lagging  talk.  Hid 
den  by  the  foliage  in  the  thick  of 
the  tree,  in  a  three-pronged  seat, 
Bud  Perkins  reclined,  his  features 
drawn  into  a  painful  grimace,  as  his 
right  hand  passed  to  and  fro  before 
his  mouth,  rhythmically  twanging 
the  tongue  of  a  jew's-harp,  upon 
which  he  was  playing  "  To  My 
Sweet  Sunny  South  Take  Me 
Home."  He  breathed  heavily  and 
260 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

irregularly.  His  eyes  were  on  the 
big  white  clouds  in  the  blue  sky, 
and  his  heart  was  filled  with  the 
poetry  of  lonesomeness  that  some 
times  comes  to  boys  in  pensive 
moods.  For  the  days  when  he  had 
lived  with  his  father,  a  nomad  of  the 
creeks  that  flowed  by  half  a  score  of 
waterways  into  the  Mississippi,  were 
upon  the  far  horizon  of  his  con 
sciousness,  and  the  memory  of  those 
days  made  him  as  sad  as  any  mem 
ory  ever  can  make  a  healthy,  care 
free  boy.  He  played  "  Dixie,"  partly 
because  it  was  his  dead  father's  fa 
vorite  tune,  and  partly  because, 
being  sprightly,  it  kept  down  his 
melancholy.  Later  he  took  out  a 
new  mouth-organ,  which  his  foster- 
mother  had  given  to  him,  and  to 
satisfy  his  boyish  idea  of  justice 
played  "  We  shall  Meet,  but  We 
265 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


shall  Miss  Him,"  because  it  was 
Miss  Morgan's  favorite.  While  he 
played  the  jew's-harp  his  tree  friends 
flung  ribald  remarks  at  him.  But 
when  Bud  began  to  waver  his  hand 
for  a  tremulo  upon  the  mouth-organ 
as  he  played  "  Marsa  's  in  de  Col', 
Col1  Groun',"  a  peace  fell  upon  the 
company,  and  they  sat  quietly  and 
heard  his  repertoire,  —  "  Ol'  Shadey," 
"  May,  Dearest  May,"  "Lilly  Dale," 
"  Dey  Stole  My  Chile  Away,"  "  Ol' 
Nicodemus,"  "  Sleeping,  I  Dream, 
Love,"  and  "  Her  Bright  Smile." 
He  was  a  Southern  boy  —  a  bird  of 
passage  caught  in  the  North  —  and 
his  music  had  that  sweet,  sooth 
ing  note  that  cheered  the  men  who 
fought  under  the  Stars  and  Bars. 

Into    this    scene     rushed     Mealy 
Jones,  pell  mell,  hat  in  hand,  breath 
less,   bringing  war's    alarms.     "  Fel- 
266 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

lers,  fellers,"  screamed  Mealy,  half  a 
block  away,  "  it 's  a-comin'  here ! 
It 's  goin'  to  be  here  in  two  weeks. 
The  man 's  puttin'  up  the  boards 
now,  and  you  can  get  a  job  passin' 
bills." 

An  instant  later  the  tree  was  de 
serted,  and  five  boys  were  running 
as  fast  as  their  legs  would  carry 
them  toward  the  thick  of  the  town. 
They  stopped  at  the  new  pine  bill 
board,  and  did  not  leave  the  man 
with  the  paste  bucket  until  they 
had  seen  "  Zazell "  flying  out  of 
the  cannon's  mouth,  the  iron-jawed 
woman  performing  her  marvels,  the 
red-mouthed  rhinoceros  with  the 
bleeding  native  impaled  upon  its  horn 
and  the  fleeing  hunters  near  by,  "  the 
largest  elephant  in  captivity,"  carry 
ing  the  ten-thousand  dollar  beauty, 
the  acrobats  whirling  through  space, 
267 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


James  Robinson  turning  handsprings 
on  his  dapple-gray  steed,  and,  last 
and  most  ravishing  of  all,  little 
Willie  Sells  in  pink  tights  on  his 
three  charging  Shetland  ponies, 
whose  breakneck  course  in  the  pic 
ture  followed  one  whichever  way 
he  turned.  When  these  glories  had 
been  pasted  upon  the  wall  and  had 
been  discussed  to  the  point  of  cynic 
ism,  the  Court  of  Boyville  reluctantly 
adjourned  to  get  in  the  night  wood 
and  dream  of  a  wilderness  of 
monkeys. 

During  the  two  weeks  after  the 
appearance  of  the  glad  tidings  on 
the  bill-boards,  the  boys  of  Willow 
Creek  spent  many  hours  in  strange 
habiliments,  making  grotesque  imi 
tations  of  the  spectacles  upon  the 
boards.  Piggy  Pennington  rolled 
his  trousers  far  above  his  knees 
268 


Oil  made  by  hanging  a  bottle  of  angleworms  in 
the  sun  to  fry. 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

for  tights,  and  galloped  his  father's 
fat  delivery  horse  up  and  down  the 
alley,  riding  sideways,  standing,  and 
backwards,  with  much  vainglory. 
To  simulate  the  motley  of  the  tight 
rope-walking  clown,  Jimmy  Sears 
wore  the  calico  lining  of  his  clothe? 
outside,  when  he  was  in  the  royal 
castle  beyond  his  mother's  ken. 
Mealy  donned  carpet  slippers  in 
Pennington's  barn,  and  wore  long 
pink-and-white  striped  stockings  of 
a  suspiciously  feminine  appearance, 
fastened  to  his  abbreviated  shirt 
waist  with  stocking-suspenders,  hated 
of  all  boys.  Abe  Carpenter,  in  a 
bathing-trunk,  did  shudder-breeding 
trapeze  tricks,  and  Bud  Perkins,  who 
nightly  rubbed  himself  limber  in  oil 
made  by  hanging  a  bottle  of  angle 
worms  in  the  sun  to  fry,  wore  his 
red  calico  base-ball  clothes,  and  went 
271 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


through  keg-hoops  in  a  dozen  differ 
ent  ways.  In  the  streets  of  the  town 
the  youngsters  appeared  disguised  as 
ordinary  boys.  They  revelled  in  the 
pictured  visions  of  the  circus,  but 
were  sceptical  about  the  literal  fulfil 
ment  of  some  of  the  promises  made 
on  the  bills.  Certain  things  adver 
tised  were  eliminated  from  reason 
able  expectation  :  for  instance,  the 
boys  all  knew  that  the  giraffe  would 
not  be  discovered  eating  off  the  top 
of  a  cocoanut-tree  ;  nor  would  the 
monkeys  play  a  brass  band ;  and 
they  knew  that  they  would  not  see 
the  "  Human  Fly "  walk  on  the 
ceiling  at  the  "  concert."  For  no 
boy  has  ever  saved  enough  money 
to  buy  a  ticket  to  the  "  concert." 
Nevertheless,  they  gloated  over  the 
pictures  of  the  herd  of  giraffes  and 
the  monkey-band  and  the  graceful 
272 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

"Human  Fly"  walking  upside  down 
"  defying  the  laws  of  gravitation  ;  ' 
and  they  considered  no  future,  how 
ever  pleasant,  after  the  day  and  date 
on  the  bills.  Thus  the  golden  day 
approached,  looming  larger  and 
larger  upon  the  horizon  as  it  came. 
In  the  interim,  how  many  a  drug 
gist  bought  his  own  bottles  the  third 
and  fourth  time,  how  many  a  junk- 
dealer  paid  for  his  own  iron,  how 
many  bags  of  carpet  rags  went  to 
the  ragman,  the  world  will  never 
know. 

Now,  among  children  of  a  larger 
growth,  in  festive  times  hostile  dem 
onstrations  cease ;  animosities  are 
buried ;  but  in  Boyville  a  North- 
ender  is  a  North-ender,  a  South- 
ender  is  a  South-ender,  and  a  meet 
ing  of  the  two  is  a  fight.  Boyville 
knows  no  times  of  truce.  It  asks 
273 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


nor  offers  quarter.  When  warring 
clans  come  together,  be  it  workday, 
holiday,  or  even  circus  day,  there  is 
a  clatter  of  clods,  a  patter  of  feet, 
and  retreating  hoots  of  defiance. 
And  because  the  circus  bill-boards 
were  frequented  by  boys  of  all  kiths 
and  clans,  clashes  occurred  frequently, 
and  Bud  Perkins,  who  was  the 
fighter  of  the  South  End,  had  many 
a  call  to  arms.  Indeed,  the  ap 
proaching  circus  unloosed  the  dogs 
of  war  rather  than  nestled  the  dove 
of  peace.  For  Bud  Perkins,  in  a 
moment  of  pride,  issued  an  ukase 
which  forbade  all  North  End  boys 
to  look  at  a  certain  bill-board  near 
his  home.  This  ukase  and  his  strict 
enforcement  of  it  made  him  the  tar 
get  of  North  End  wrath.  Little 
Miss  Morgan,  his  foster-mother,  who 
had  adopted  him  at  the  death  of  his 
274 


Honv  many  bags  of  carpet  rags  <went  to  the  ragman. 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

father  the  summer  before  the  circus 
bills  were  posted,  could  not  under 
stand  how  the  lad  managed  to  lose 
so  many  buttons,  nor  how  he  kept 
tearing  his  clothes.  She  ascribed 
these  things  to  his  antecedents  and 
to  his  deficient  training.  She  did 
not  know  that  Bud,  whom  she  called 
Henry,  and  whose  music  on  the 
mouth-organ  seemed  to  come  from 
a  shy  and  gentle  soul,  was  the  Terror 
of  the  South  End.  Her  guileless 
mind  held  no  place  for  the  impor 
tant  fact  that  North  End  boys  gener 
ally  travelled  by  her  door  in  pairs 
for  safety.  Such  is  the  blindness  of 
women.  Cupid  probably  got  his 
defective  vision  from  his  mother's 
side  of  the  house. 

The  last  half  of  the  last  week  be 
fore  circus  day  seemed  a  century  to 
Bud    and    his   friends.      Friday   and 
277 


The  Court  of  Boy  ville 


Saturday  crept  by,  and  Mealy  Jones 
was  the  only  boy  at  Sunday-school 
who  knew  the  Golden  Text,  for  an 
inflammatory  rumor  that  the  circus 
was  unloading  from  the  side-track  at 
the  depot  swept  over  the  boys'  side 
of  the  Sunday-school  room,  and  con 
sumed  all  knowledge  of  the  fifth 
chapter  of  Acts,  the  day's  lesson. 
After  Sunday-school  the  boys  broke 
for  the  circus  grounds.  There  they 
feasted  their  gluttonous  eyes  upon 
the  canvas-covered  chariots,  and  the 
elephants,  and  the  camels,  and  the 
spotted  ponies,  passing  from  the  cars 
to  the  tents.  The  unfamiliar  noises, 
the  sight  of  the  rising  "  sea  of  can 
vas,"  the  touch  of  mysterious  wag 
ons  containing  so  many  wonders,  and 
the  intoxicating  smell  that  comes 
only  with  much  canvas,  many  ani 
mals,  and  the  unpacking  of  Pandora's 
278 


Brother  Baker  —  a  tiptoeing  Nemesis. 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

box,  stuffed  the  boys'  senses  until  they 
viewed  with  utter  stoicism  the  pass 
ing  dinner  hour  and  the  prospect  of 
finding  only  cold  mashed  potatoes 
and  the  necks  and  backs  of  chickens 
in  the  cupboards.  They  even  affected 
indifference  to  parental  scoldings,  and 
lingered  about  the  enchanting  spot 
until  the  shadows  fell  eastward  and 
the  day  was  old. 

When  a  boy  gets  on  his  good  be 
havior  he  tempts  Providence.  And 
the  Providence  of  boys  is  frail  and 
prone  to  yield.  So  when  Bud  Per 
kins,  who  was  burning  with  a  de 
sire  to  please  Miss  Morgan  the  day 
before  the  circus,  went  to  church 
that  Sunday  night,  any  one  can  see 
that  he  was  provoking  Providence  in 
an  unusual  and  cruel  manner.  Bud 
did  not  sit  with  Miss  Morgan,  but 
lounged  into  the  church,  and  took  a 
281 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


back  seat.  Three  North  End  boys 
came  in  and  sat  on  the  same  bench. 
Then  Jimmy  Sears  shuffled  past  the 
North  Enders,  and  sat  beside  Bud. 
After  which  the  inevitable  happened. 
It  kept  happening.  They  "  passed 
it  on,"  and  passed  it  back  again ; 
first  a  pinch,  then  a  chug,  then  a 
cuff,  then  a  kick  under  the  bench. 
Heads  craned  toward  the  boys  occa 
sionally,  and  there  came  an  awful 
moment  when  Bud  Perkins  found 
himself  looking  brazenly  into  the 
eyes  of  the  preacher,  who  had  paused 
to  glare  at  the  boys  in  the  midst  of 
his  sermon.  The  faces  of  the  entire 
congregation  seemed  to  turn  upon 
Bud  automatically.  A  cherub-like 
expression  of  conscious  innocence 
and  impenetrable  unconcern  beamed 
through  Bud  Perkins's  features.  The 
same  expression  rested  upon  the 
282 


Dressed-up  children  'were  flitting  along  the  side  streets, 
hurrying  their  seniors. 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

countenances  of  the  four  other  mal 
efactors.  At  the  end  of  the  third 
second  Jimmy  Sears  put  his  hand  to 
his  mouth  and  snorted  between  his 
fingers.  And  four  young  men  looked 
down  their  noses.  In  the  hush, 
Brother  Baker  —  a  tiptoeing  Neme 
sis  —  stalked  the  full  length  of  the 
church  toward  the  culprits.  When 
he  took  his  seat  beside  the  boys  the 
preacher  continued  his  discourse. 
Brother  Baker's  unctuousness  angered 
Bud  Perkins.  He  felt  the  implica 
tion  that  his  conduct  was  bad,  and 
his  sense  of  guilt  spurred  his  temper. 
Satan  put  a  pin  in  Bud's  hand. 
Slowly,  almost  imperceptibly,  Satan 
moved  the  boy's  arm  on  the  back  of 
the  pew,  around  Jimmy  Sears.  Then 
an  imp  pushed  Bud's  hand  as  he 
jabbed  the  pin  into  the  back  of  a 
North  Ender.  The  boy  from  the 
285 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


North  End  let  out  a  yowl  of  pain. 
Bud  was  not  quick  enough.  Brother 
Baker  saw  the  pin ;  two  hundred 
devout  Methodists  saw  him  clamp 
his  fingers  on  Bud  Perkins's  ear,  and 
march  him  down  the  length  of  the 
church  and  set  him  beside  Miss 
Morgan.  It  was  a  sickening  mo 
ment.  The  North  End  grinned  as 
one  boy  under  its  skin,  and  was 
exceeding  glad.  So  agonizing  was 
it  for  Bud  that  he  forgot  to  imagine 
what  a  triumph  it  was  for  the  North 
End  —  and  further  anguish  is  im 
possible  for  a  boy. 

Miss  Morgan  and  Bud  Perkins 
left  the  church  with  the  congrega 
tion.  Bud  dreaded  the  moment 
when  they  would  leave  the  crowd 
and  turn  into  their  side  street.  When 
they  did  turn,  Bud  was  lagging  a 
step  or  two  behind.  A  boy's  troubles 
286 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

are  always  the  fault  of  the  other  boy. 
The  North  End  boy's  responsibility 
in  the  matter  was  so  clear  —  to  Bud 
—  that,  when  he  went  to  justify 
himself  to  Miss  Morgan,  he  was  sur 
prised  and  hurt  at  what  he  considered 
her  feminine  blindness  to  the  fact. 
After  she  had  passed  her  sentence 
she  asked :  "  Do  you  really  think 
you  deserve  to  go,  Henry  ? " 

The  blow  stunned  the  boy.  He 
saw  the  visions  of  two  weeks  burst 
like  bubbles,  and  he  whimpered  :  "  I 
dunno."  But  in  his  heart  he  did 
know  that  to  deny  a  boy  the  joy  of 
seeing  Willie  Sells  on  his  three  Shet 
land  ponies,  for  nothing  in  the  world 
but  showing  a  North-ender  his  place, 
was  a  piece  of  injustice  of  the  kind 
for  which  men  and  nations  go  to 
war.  At  breakfast  Bud  kept  hig 
eyes  on  his  plate.  His  face  wore 
287 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


;he  resigned  look  of  a  martyr.  Miss 
Morgan  was  studiously  gracious.  He 
dropped  leaden  monosyllables  into 
the  cheery  flow  of  her  conversation, 
and  after  breakfast  put  in  his  time  at 
the  woodshed. 

At  eight  o'clock  that  morning  the 
town  of  Willow  Creek  was  in  the 
thrall  of  the  circus.  Country  wag 
ons  were  passing  on  every  side  street. 
Delivery  carts  were  rattling  about 
with  unusual  alacrity.  By  half-past 
nine  dressed-up  children  were  flitting 
along  the  side  streets  hurrying  their 
seniors.  On  the  main  thoroughfare 
flags  were  flying,  and  the  streams  of 
strangers  that  had  been  flowing  into 
town  were  eddying  at  the  street  cor 
ners.  The  balloon-vender  wormed 
his  way  through  the  buzzing  crowd, 
leaving  his  wares  in  a  red  and  blue 
trail  behind  him.  The  bark  of  the 
288 


The  Balloon- lender  wormed  his  way  through  the  buzzing 
crowd,  leaving  his  'wares  in  a  red  and  blue  trail  be 
hind  him. 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

fakir  rasped  the  tightening  nerves  of 
the  town.  Everywhere  was  hub 
bub  ;  everywhere  was  the  dusty, 
heated  air  of  the  festival ;  everywhere 
were  men  and  women  ready  for  the 
marvel  that  had  come  out  of  the 
great  world,  bringing  pomp  and  cir 
cumstance  in  its  gilded  train ;  every 
where  in  Willow  Creek  the  spirit 
which  put  the  blue  sash  about  the 
country  girl's  waist  and  the  flag  in 
her  beau's  hat  ran  riot,  save  at  the 
home  of  Miss  Morgan.  There  the 
bees  hummed  lazily  over  the  old- 
fashioned  flower  garden ;  there  the 
cantankerous  jays  jabbered  in  the 
cottonwoods  ;  there  the  muffled 
noises  of  the  *  town  festival  came  as 
from  afar ;  there  Miss  Morgan  put 
tered  about  her  morning's  work,  try 
ing  vainly  to  croon  a  gospel  hymn  ; 
and  there  Bud  Perkins,  prone  upon 
,  291 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


the  sitting-room  sofa,  made  parallelo 
grams  and  squares  and  diamonds  with 
the  dots  and  lines  on  the  ceiling 
paper.  When  the  throb  of  the 
drum  and  the  blare  of  the  brass  had 
set  the  heart  of  the  town  to  dancing, 
some  wave  of  the  ecstasy  seeped 
through  the  lilac  bushes  and  into 
the  quiet  house.  The  boy  on  the 
sofa  started  up  suddenly,  checked 
himself  ostentatiously,  walked  to  the 
bird  cage,  and  began  to  play  with 
the  canary.  The  wave  carried  the 
little  spinster  to  the  window.  The 
circus  had  a  homestead  in  human 
hearts  before  John  Wesley  staked 
his  claim,  and  even  so  good  a  Metho 
dist  as  Miss  Morgan  could  not  be  deaf 
to  the  scream  of  the  calliope  nor  the 
tinkle  of  cymbals. 

To  emphasize  his  desolation,  Bud 
left   the   room,  and   sat   down  by  a 
292 


The  Blue  Sash  about  the  country  girFs  waist  and 
the  flag  in  her  Beau's  hat. 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

tree  in  the  yard,  with  his  back  to 
the  kitchen  door  and  window. 
There  Miss  Morgan  saw  him  play 
ing  mumble-peg  in  a  desultory 
fashion.  When  the  courtiers  of 
Boyville  came  home  from  the  parade 
they  found  him  ;  and  because  he  sat 
playing  a  silent,  sullen,  solitary  game, 
and  responded  to  their  banter  only 
with  melancholy  grunts,  they  knew 
that  the  worst  had  befallen  him. 
Much  confab  followed,  in  which 
the  pronoun  "  she "  and  "  her " 
were  spoken.  Otherwise  Miss  Mor 
gan  was  unidentified.  For  the 
conversation  ran  thus,  over  and 
over : — 

"You  ask  her/' 

"  Naw,  I  've  done  ast  'er." 

"  'T  won't  do  no  good  for  me  to 
ast  'er.      She  don't  like  me." 

"  I  ain't  Traid  to  ast  Jer." 
295 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


"Well,  then,  why  don't  you?" 

"Why  don't  you?  " 

"  Let 's  all  ast   er." 

"  S'pose  she  will,  Bud  ? " 

"I  dunno." 

Then  Piggy  and  Abe  and  Jimmy 
and  Mealy  came  trapesing  up  to 
Miss  Morgan's  kitchen  door.  Bud 
sat  by  the  tree  twirling  his  knife  at 
his  game.  Piggy,  being  the  spokes 
man,  stood  in  the  doorway.  "  Miss 
Morgan,"  he  said,  as  he  slapped  his 
leg  with  his  hat. 

"Well,  Winfield?"  replied  the 
little  woman,  divining  his  mission, 
and  hardening  her  heart  against  his 
purpose. 

"  Miss  Morgan,"  he  repeated,  and 
then  coaxed  sheepishly,  "can't  Bud 
go  to  the  show  with  us,  Miss  Mor- 
gan  ? " 

"  I  'm  afraid  not  to-day,"  smiled 
296 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

back  Miss  Morgan,  as  she  went 
about  her  work.  A  whisper  from 
the  doorstep  prompted  Piggy  to 
"  ask  her  why  ;  "  whereat  Piggy 
echoed :  "  Why  can't  he,  Miss 
Morgan?" 

"  Henry  misbehaved  in  church  last 
night,  and  we  Jve  agreed  that  he  shall 
stay  home  from  the  circus." 

Piggy  advanced  a  step  or  two  in 
side  the  door,  laughing  diplomati 
cally  :  "  O  —  no,  Miss  Morgan  ; 
don't  you  think  he  's  agreed.  He  's 
just  dyin'  to  go." 

Miss  Morgan  smiled,  but  did  not 
join  in  Piggy's  hilarity  —  a  bad  sign. 
Piggy  tried  again :  "  They  got  six 
elephants,  and  one  's  a  trick  elephant. 
You  'd  die  a-laughin'  if  you  saw 
him."  And  Piggy  went  into  a 
spasm  of  laughter. 

But  it  left  Miss  Morgan  high  and 
297 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


dry  upon  the  island  of  her  determi 
nation. 

Piggy  prepared  for  an  heroic 
measure,  and  stepped  over  to  the 
kitchen  table,  leaning  upon  it  as  he 
pleaded :  "  This  is  the  last  circus 
this  year,  Miss  Morgan,  and  it  's  an 
awful  good  one.  Can't  he  go  just 
this  once  ?  " 

The  debate  lasted  ten  minutes, 
and  at  the  end  four  boys  walked 
slowly,  with  much  manifestation  of 
feeling,  back  to  the  tree  where  the 
fifth  sat.  There  was  woe  and  lam 
entation  after  the  manner  of  boy- 
kind.  When  the  boys  left  the  yard 
it  seemed  to  Miss  Morgan  that  she 
could  not  look  from  her  work  with 
out  seeing  the  lonesome  figure  of 
Bud.  In  the  afternoon  the  patter 
of  feet  by  her  house  grew  slower, 

and  then     ceased.       Occasionally    a 
298 


"  One  V  a  trick  elephant.      You  "*  d  die  a-laughing  if  you 
safw  him*'' 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

belated  wayfarer  sped  by.  The 
music  of  the  circus  band  outside  of 
the  tent  came  to  Miss  Morgan's  ears 
on  gusts  of  wind,  and  died  away  as 
the  wind  ebbed.  She  dropped  the 
dish-cloth  three  times  in  five  min 
utes,  and  washed  her  cup  and 
saucer  twice.  She  struggled  bravely 
in  the  Slough  of  Despond  for 
awhile,  and  then  turned  back 
with  Pliable. 

"  Henry/'  she  said,  as  the  boy 
walked  past  her  carrying  peppergrass 
to  the  bird,  "Henry,  what  made  you 
act  so  last  night  ?  " 

The  boy  dropped  his  head  and 
answered:  "Idunno." 

"  But,  Henry,  did  n't  you  know  it 
was  wrong  ? " 

"  I  dunno." 

"  Why  did   you   stick   that    little 
boy  with  the  pin  ?  " 
301 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


«  Well  —  well  —  "  he  gasped, 
preparing  for  a  defence.  "  Well  — 
he  pinched  me  first." 

"  Yes,  Henry,  but  don't  you  know 
that  it 's  wrong  to  do  those  things  in 
church  ?  Don't  you  see  how  bad  it 
was  ? " 

"  I  was  just  a-playin',  Miss  Mor 
gan  ;  I  did  n't  mean  to." 

Bud  did  not  dare  to  trust  his  in 
stinctive  reading  of  the  signs.  He 
went  on  impulsively :  "  I  wanted 
him  to  quit,  but  he  just  kept  right 
on,  and  Brother  Baker  did  n't  touch 
him." 

The  wind  brought  the  staccato 
music  of  the  circus  band  to  the  fos 
ter-mother's  ears.  The  music  com 
pleted  her  moral  decay,  for  she  was 
thinking,  if  Brother  Baker  would 
only  look  after  his  own  children  as 
carefully  as  he  looked  after  those  of 
302 


n'i'-'.n 


"  It*s  an  awful  good  one.      Can't  he  go  just  this 
once?" 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

other  people,  the  world  would  be 
better.  Then  she  said :  "  Now, 
Henry,  if  I  let  you  go,  just  this  once 
—  now  just  this  once,  mind  you  — 
will  you  promise  never  to  do  any 
thing  like  that  again  ?  " 

Blackness  dropped  from  the  boy's 
spirit,  and  by  main  strength  he 
strangled  a  desire  to  yell.  The  de 
sire  revived  when  he  reached  the 
alley,  and  he  ran  whooping  to  the 
circus  grounds. 

There  is  a  law  of  crystallization 
among  boys  which  enables  molecules 
of  the  same  gang  to  meet  in  what 
ever  agglomeration  they  may  be 
thrown.  So  ten  minutes  after  Bud 
Perkins  left  home  he  found  Piggy 
and  Jimmy  and  old  Abe  and  Mealy 
in  the  menagerie  tent.  Whereupon 
the  South  End  was  able  to  present 
a  bristling  front  to  the  North  End  — 
305 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


a  front  which  even  the  pleasings  of 
the  lute  in  the  circus  band  could  not 
break.  But  the  boys  knew  that  the 
band  playing  in  the  circus  tent  meant 
that  the  performance  in  the  ring  was 
about  to  begin.  So  they  cut  short 
an  interesting  dialogue  with  a  keeper, 
concerning  the  elephant  that  remem 
bered  the  man  who  gave  her  tobacco 
ten  years  ago,  and  tried  to  kill  him 
the  week  before  the  show  came  to 
Willow  Creek.  But  when  the  pa 
geant  in  the  ring  unfolded  its  tinselled 
splendor  in  the  Grand  Entry,  Bud 
Perkins  left  earth  and  walked  upon 
clouds  of  glory.  His  high-strung 
nerves  quivered  with  delight  as  the 
ring  disclosed  its  treasures  —  Willie 
Sells  on  his  spotted  ponies,  James 
Robinson  on  his  dapple  gray,  the 
"  8  funny  clowns  —  count  them  8," 
the  Japanese  jugglers  and  tum- 
306 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

biers,  the  bespangled  women  on  the 
rings,  the  dancing  ponies,  and  the 
performing  dogs.  The  climax  of 
his  joy  came  when  Zazell,  "  the 
queen  of  the  air,"  was  shot  from  her 
cannon  to  the  trapeze.  Bud  had 
decided,  days  before  the  circus,  that 
this  feature  would  please  him  most. 
Zazell's  performance  was  somewhat 
tame,  but  immediately  thereafter  a 
really  startling  thing  happened.  A 
clown  holding  the  trick  mule  called 
to  the  boys  near  Bud,  who  nudged 
him  into  the  clown's  attention. 
The  clown,  drawing  from  the 
wide  pantaloons  a  dollar,  panto 
mimed  to  Bud.  He  held  it  up 
for  the  boy  and  all  the  spectators  to 
see.  Alternately  he  pointed  to  the 
trick  mule  and  to  the  coin,  coaxing 
and  questioning  by  signs,  as  he  did 
so.  It  took  perhaps  a  minute  for 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


Bud's  embarrassment  to  wear  off. 
Then  two  motives  impelled  him  to 
act.  He  did  n't  propose  to  let  the 
North-enders  see  his  embarrassment, 
and  he  saw  that  he  might  earn  the 
dollar  for  Miss  Morgan's  missionary 
box,  thus  mitigating  the  disgrace  he 
had  brought  upon  her  .in  church. 
This  inspiration  literally  flashed  over 
Bud,  and  before  he  knew  it,  he  was 
standing  in  the  ring,  with  his  head 
cocked  upon  one  side  to  indicate  his 
utter  indifference  to  everything  in 
the  world.  Of  course  it  was  a  stu 
pendous  pretence.  For  under  his 
pretty  starched  shirt,  which  Miss 
Morgan  had  forced  on  him  in  the 
hurry  of  departure,  his  heart  was 
beating  like  a  little  windmill  in  a 
gale.  As  Bud  bestrode  the  donkey 
the  cheers  of  the  throng  rose,  but 
above  the  tumult  he  could  hear  the 
312 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

North  End  jeering  him.  He  could 
hear  the  words  the  North-enders 
spoke,  even  their  "  ho-o-oho-os,"  and 
their  "nyayh-nyayh-nyayahs,"  and 
their  "  look  -  at  -  old  -  pretty  -  boy's," 
and  their  "  watch-him-hit-the-roof's," 
and  their  "  get-a-basket's,"  and  simi 
lar  remarks  less  desirable  for  publi 
cation.  As  the  donkey  cantered  off, 
Bud  felt  sure  he  could  keep  his  seat. 
Once  the  animal  bucked.  Bud  did 
not  fall.  The  donkey  ran,  and 
stopped  quickly.  Bud  held  on. 
Then  the  donkey's  feet  twinkled  — 
it  seemed  to  Bud  in  the  very  top  of 
the  tent  —  and  Bud  slid  off  the  ani 
mal's  neck  to  the  ring.  The  clown 
brought  the  boy  his  hat,  and  stood 
over  him  as  he  rose.  Bud  laughed 
stupidly  into  the  chalked  face  of  the 
clown,  who  handed  Bud  a  dollar, 
remarking  in  a  low  voice,  "Well, 
3*3 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


son,  you  're  a  daisy.     They  generally 
drop  the  first  kick." 

What  passed  in  the  ring  as  Bud 
left  it,  bedraggled  and  dusty,  did  not 
interest  him.  He  brushed  himself 
as  he  went.  The  band  was  playing 
madly,  and  the  young  woman  in  the 
stiff*  skirts  was  standing  by  her  horse 
ready  to  mount.  The  crowd  did 
not  stop  laughing  ;  Bud  inclined  his 
head  to  dust  his  knickerbockers,  and 
then  in  a  tragic  instant  he  saw  what 
was  convulsing  the  multitude  with 
laughter.  The  outer  seam  of  the 
right  leg  of  his  velveteen  breeches 
was  gone,  and  a  brown  leg  was 
winking  in  and  out  from  the  flap 
ping  garment  as  he  walked.  Wildly 
he  gathered  the  parted  garment,  and 
it  seemed  to  him  that  he  never  would 
cover  the  ground  between  the  ring 
and  the  benches.  In  the  course  of 


"  Well,  son, you  're  a  daisy.      They  generally  drop 
the  first  kick."' 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

several  asons  —  which  the  other  boys 
measured  by  fleeting  minutes  —  the 
wave  of  shame  that  covered  Bud 
subsided.  Pins  bound  up  the  wounds 
in  his  clothes.  He  drew  a  natural 
breath,  and  was  able  to  join  the  mob 
which  howled  down  the  man  who 
announced  the  concert. 

After  that  the  inexorable  minutes 
flew  by  until  the  performance 
ended.  In  the  menagerie  tent  Bud 
and  his  friends  looked  thirstily  upon 
the  cool,  pink  "  schooners  "  of  lem 
onade,  and  finally,  when  they  had 
spent  a  few  blissful  moments  with 
the  monkeys  and  had  enjoyed  a  last, 
long,  lingering  look  at  the  elephants, 
they  dragged  themselves  unwillingly 
away  into  the  commonplace  of  sun 
shine  and  trees  and  blue  sky.  Only 
the  romantic  touch  of  the  side-show 
banners  and  the  wonder  of  the  gilded 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


wagons  assured  them  that  their  mem 
ories  of  the  passing  hour  were  not 
empty  dreams. 

The  boys  were  standing  enraptured 
before  the  picture  of  the  fat  woman 
upon  the  swaying  canvas.  Bud  had 
drifted  away  from  them  to  glut  his 
eyes  upon  the  picture  of  the  snakes 
writhing  around  the  charmer.  The 
North-enders  had  been  following 
Bud  at  a  respectful  distance,  waiting 
for  the  opportunity  which  his  sepa 
ration  from  his  clan  gave  to  them. 
They  were  enforced  by  a  country 
boy  of  great  reputed  prowess  in  bat 
tle.  Bud  did  not  know  his  danger 
until  they  pounced  upon  him.  In 
an  instant  the  fight  was  raging. 
Over  the  guy  ropes  it  went,  under 
the  ticket  wagon,  into  the  thick  of 
the  lemonade  stands.  And  when 
Piggy  and  Abe  and  Jimmy  had 
318 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

joined  it,  they  trailed  the  track  of 
the  storm  by  torn  hats,  bruised, 
battle-scarred  boys,  and  the  wreckage 
incident  to  an  enlivening  occasion. 
When  his  comrades  found  Bud,  the 
argument  had  narrowed  down  to 
Bud  and  the  boy  from  the  country, 
the  other  wranglers  having  dropped 
out  for  heavy  repairs.  The  fight, 
which  had  been  started  to  avenge 
ancient  wrongs,  particularly  the 
wrongs  of  the  bill-board,  only  added 
new  wrongs  to  the  list.  The  coun 
try  boy  was  striking  wildly,  and  try 
ing  to  clinch  his  antagonist,  when 
the  town  marshal  —  the  bogie-man 
of  all  boys  —  stopped  the  fight.  But 
of  course  no  town  marshal  can  come 
into  the  thick  of  a  discussion  in  Boy- 
ville  and  know  much  of  the  merits 
of  the  question.  So  when  the  mar 
shal  of  Willow  Creek  saw  Bud 
3*9 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


Perkins  putting  the  finishing  touches 
of  a  good  trouncing  on  a  strange 
boy,  and  also  saw  Bill  Pennington's 
boy,  and  Henry  Sears's  boy,  and  Mrs. 
Carpenter's  boy,  and  old  man  Jones's 
boy  dancing  around  in  high  glee  at 
the  performance,  he  quietly  gathered 
in  the  boys  he  knew,  and  let  the 
stranger  go. 

Now  no  boy  likes  to  be  marched 
down  the  main  street  of  his  town 
with  the  callous  finger  of  the  mar 
shal  under  his  shirt-band.  The  spec 
tacle  operates  distinctly  against  the 
peace  and  dignity  of  Boyville  for 
months  thereafter.  For  passing 
youths  who  forget  there  is  a  morrow 
jibe  at  the  culprits,  and  thus  plant 
the  seeds  of  dissensions  which  bloom 
in  fights.  It  was  a  sweaty,  red- faced 
crew  that  the  marshal  dumped  into 
Pennington's  grocery  with,  "Here, 
320 


1 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

Bill,  I  found  your  boy  and  these 
young  demons  fightin'  down  't  the 
circus  ground,  and  I  took  'em  in 
charge.  You  'tend  to  'em,  will 
you?" 

Mr.  Pennington's  glance  at  his 
son  showed  that  Piggy  was  un 
harmed.  A  swift  survey  of  the 
others  gave  each,  save  Bud,  a  bill  of 
health.  But  when  Mr.  Pennington's 
eyes  fell  on  Bud,  he  leaned  on  a 
show-case  and  laughed  till  he  shook 
all  over ;  for  Bud,  with  a  rimless 
hat  upon  a  towselled  head,  with  a 
face  scratched  till  it  looked  like  a 
railroad  map,  with  a  torn  shirt  that 
exposed  a  dirty  shoulder  and  a 
freckled  back,  with  trousers  so  badly 
shattered  that  two  hands  could  hardly 
hold  them  together,  —  as  Mr.  Pen- 
nington  expressed  it,  Bud  looked  like 
a  second-hand  boy.  The  simile 
323 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


pleased  Pennington  so  that  he  re 
newed  his  laughter,  and  paid  no  heed 
to  the  chatter  of  the  pack  clamoring 
to  tell  all  in  one  breath,  the  history 
of  the  incident  that  had  led  to  Bud's 
dilapidation.  Also  they  were  draw 
ing  gloomy  pictures  of  the  appear 
ance  of  his  assailants,  after  the  custom 
of  boys  in  such  cases.  Because  his 
son  was  not  involved  in  the  calamity, 
Piggy 's  father  was  not  moved  deeply 
by  the  story  of  the  raid  of  the  North- 
enders  and  their  downfall.  So  he 
put  the  young  gentlemen  of  -the 
Court  of  Boyville  into  the  back 
room  of  his  grocery  store,  where 
coal-oil  and  molasses  barrels  and 
hams  and  bacon  and  black  shadows 
of  many  mysterious  things  were 
gathered.  He  gave  the  royal  party 
a  cheese  knife  and  a  watermelon, 
and  bade  them  be  merry,  a  bidding 
324 


5»   -^ 
"^T  "o 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

which  set  the  hearts  of  Piggy  and 
Abe  and  Jimmy  and  Mealy  to 
dancing,  while  Bud's  heart,  which 
had  been  sinking  lower  and  lower 
into  a  quagmire  of  dread,  beat  on 
numbly  and  did  not  join  the  joy. 
As  the  time  for  going  home  ap 
proached,  Bud  shivered  in  his  soul 
at  the  thought  of  meeting  Miss 
Morgan.  Not  even  the  watermelon 
revived  him,  and  when  a  water 
melon  will  not  help  a  boy  his  ex 
tremity  is  dire.  Still  he  laughed 
and  chatted  with  apparent  merri 
ment,  but  he  knew  how  hollow  was 
his  laughter  and  what  mockery  was 
in  his  cheer.  When  the  melon  was 
eaten  business  took  its  regular  order. 

"  Say,  Bud,  how  you  goin'  to  get 
home  ?"  asked  Abe. 

Bud  grinned  as  he  looked  at  his 
rags. 

327 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


"  Gee,"  said  Mealy,  "I  'm  glad  it 
ain't  me." 

"Aw,  shucks,"  returned  Bud,  and 
he  thought  of  the  stricken  Ananias 
in  the  Sunday-school  lesson  leaf  as 
he  spoke  ;  "  run  right  through  like 
I  always  do.  What  I  got  to  be 
'fraid  of?" 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Bud,  you  can  laugh, 
but  you  know  you  '11  catch  it  when 
you  get  home." 

This  shaft  from  Jimmy  Sears  put 
in  words  the  terror  in  Bud's  heart. 
But  he  replied  :  "  I  '11  bet  you  I 
don't." 

Bud's  instinct  piloted  him  by  a 
circuitous  route  up  the  alley  to  the 
kitchen  door.  Miss  Morgan  sat  on 
the  front  porch,  waiting  for  the  boy 
to  return  before  serving  supper.  He 
stood  helplessly  in  the  kitchen  for  a 
minute,  with  a  weight  of  indecision 
328 


•'«  Miss  Morgan,  I  just  'want  you  to  look  at  my  boy* 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

upon  him.  He  feared  to  go  to  the 
front  porch,  where  Miss  Morgan 
was.  He  feared  to  stay  in  the 
kitchen.  But  when  he  saw  the 
empty  wood-box  a  light  seemed  to 
dawn.  Instinct  guided  him  to  the 
woodpile,  and  the  law  of  self-preser 
vation  filled  his  arms  with  wood,  and 
instinct  carried  him  to  the  kitchen 
wood-box  time  and  again,  and  laid 
the  wood  in  the  box  as  gently  as  if 
it  had  been  glass  and  as  softly  as  if  it 
had  been  velvet.  Not  until  the  pile 
had  grown  far  above  the  wainscoting 
on  the  kitchen  wall,  did  a  stick 
crashing  to  the  floor  tell  Miss  Mor 
gan  that  Bud  was  in  the  house. 

But  there  is  a  destiny  that  shapes 
our  ends,  and  just  as  the  falling  wood 
attracted  Miss  Morgan's  attention,  it 
was  diverted  by  a  belligerent  party 
at  her  front  gate.  This  belligerent 
331 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


party  was  composed  of  two  persons, 
to  wit :  one  mother  from  the  north 
end  of  Willow  Creek,  irate  to  the 
spluttering  point,  and  one  boy  lag 
ging  as  far  behind  the  mother  as  his 
short  arm  would  allow  him  to  lag. 
The  mother  held  the  short  arm,  and 
was  literally  dragging  her  son  to 
Miss  Morgan's  gate  to  offer  him  in 
evidence  as  "  Exhibit  A  "  in  a  pos 
sible  cause  of  the  State  of  Kansas  vs. 

Henry    Perkins.       Exhibit    A     was 

j 

black  and  blue  as  to  the  eyes,  torn 
as  to  the  shirt,  bloody  as  to  the  nose,, 
tumbled  and  dusty  as  co  the  hair, 
and  as  to  the  countenance,  clearly 
and  unquestionably  sheep-faced.  The 
mother  opened  the  bombardment 
with:  "Miss  Morgan,  I  just  want 
you  to  look  at  my  boy." 

Miss    Morgan   looked   in  horror, 
and    exclaimed :   "  Well,  for  mercy 
332 


Now,  Henry,  dont  ever  have  anything  to  do 
with  that  kind  of  trash  again" 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

sakes !  Where  on  earth  's  he 
been?" 

And  the  leader  of  the  war  party 
returned :  "  Where  's  he  been  ?  Well, 
I  '11  tell  you  where  he 's  been.  And 
I  just  want  you  to  know  who  done 
this."  Here  Exhibit  A  got  behind 
a  post.  The  recital  of  the  details 
of  his  catastrophe  was  humiliating. 
But  the  mother  continued:  "Henry 
Perkins  done  this.  I  don't  believe 
in  stirring  up  neighborhood  quarrels 
and  all  that,  but  I  Ve  just  stood  this 
long  enough.  My  boy  can't  stick 
his  nose  out  of  the  door  without  that 
Perkins  boy  jumpin'  on  him.  If 
you  can't  do  anything  with  that  Per 
kins  boy,  I  '11  show  him  there  's  a 
law  in  this  land." 

Miss  Morgan  wilted  as  the  speech 
proceeded.  She  had  voice  only  to 
say,  "  I  'm  sure  there 's  some  mis- 
335 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


&ke  ;  "  and  then  remembering  the 
crash  of  the  wood  on  the  kitchen  floor, 
she  called :  "  Henry,  come  here  !  " 

As  Bud  shambled  through  the 
house,  the  spokesman  of  the  bellig 
erents  replied  :  "  No,  there  is  n't  no 
mistake  either.  My  boy  is  a  good 
little  boy,  and  just  as  peaceable  a  boy 
as  there  is  in  this  town.  And  be 
cause  I  don't  allow  him  to  fight, 
that  Perkins  boy  picks  on  him  all 
the  time.  I  've  told  him  to  keep 
out  of  his  way  and  not  to  play  with 
Henry  Perkins,  but  he  can't  be  run- 
inn'  all  over  this  town  to  keep " 

And  then  Exhibit  B,  with 
scratched  face,  tattered  raiment,  and 
grimy  features,  stood  in  the  door 
way.  The  witness  for  the  State 
looked  in  dumb  amazement  at  the 
wreck.  Miss  Morgan  saw  Bud,  and 
her  temper  rose  —  not  at  him,  but 
336 


u  Kerens  a  dollar  I  got  for  ridiri*  the  trick  mule 
.  .  .  .  /  thought  it  <would  be  nice  for  the  mission 
ary  society. " 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

at  his  adversary.  Exhibit  A  sulkily 
turned  his  face  from  Exhibit  B,  and 
Exhibit  B  seemed  to  be  oblivious  of 
the  presence  of  Exhibit  A ;  for  the 
boys  it  was  a  scene  too  shameful  for 
mutual  recognition.  Miss  Morgan 
broke  the  heavy  silence  with : 
"  Henry,  where  on  earth  have  you 
been  ?  " 

"  Been  t'  the  circus,"  replied  the 
boy. 

"  Henry,  did  you  blacken  that 
little  boy's  eyes,  and  tear  his  clothes 
that  way?"  inquired  Miss  Morgan 
when  her  wits  returned. 

«  Why  —  no  'm  —  I  did  n't.  But 
he  was  one  of  four  fellers  that  picked 
on  me  comin'  home  from  the  circus, 
and  tried  to  lick  me." 

"  Willie,"  demanded  the  head  of 
the  attacking  posse,  "  did  you  pick  a 
fight  with  that  Perkins  boy  ?  " 
339 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


"  Oh,  no  'm,  no  'm  !  I  was  just 
playin'  round  the  tent,  me  and  an 
other  boy,  and  Bud  he  come  up  and 
jumped  on  us."  And  then  to  add 
verisimilitude  to  his  narrative,  he  ap 
pended  :  "  Him  and  four  other  boys." 

"  Henry,"  asked  Miss  Morgan,  as 
she  surveyed  the  debris  of  Henry's 
Sunday  clothes,  and  her  womanly 
wrath  for  the  destroyer  of  them  be 
gan  to  boil,  "  Henry,  now  tell  me 
honestly,  is  this  little  boy  telling  the 
truth  ?  Now,  don't  you  story  to 
me,  Henry." 

"  Honest  injun,  Miss  Morgan,  I 
cross  my  heart  and  hope  to  drop 
dead  this  minute  if  I  ain't  tellin'  you 
the  way  it  was.  Him  and  them 
North-enders,  why  they  come  along 
and  called  me  names,  and  he  tried 
to  hit  me,  and  I  just  shoved  him 
away  like  this/'  and  Henry  executed 
340 


•"'  Gee,  we're  going  to  have  pie t  amative." 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

a  polite  pantomime.  "  And  I  was 
swingin'  my  arms  out  to  keep  'em 
all  from  hittin'  me,  and  he  got  in 
the  way,  and  I  could  n't  help  it. 
And  they  was  all  a  pickin'  on  me, 
and  I  told  'em  all  the  time  I  -didn't 
want  to  fight." 

But  Exhibit  A  kept  looking  at  his 
mother  and  shaking  his  head  in  vio 
lent  contradiction  of  Bud,  as  the 
story  was  told. 

Miss  Morgan  asked :  "  Who 
scratched  your  face  so,  Henry  ? " 

"  Him  ;   he  's  all  the  time  fightin' 


me." 


"No,  ma,  I  didn't.  You  know 
I  did  n't." 

Exhibit  A  and  Exhibit  B  were 
still  back  to  back.  Then  Exhibit 
B  responded  :  "  Miss  Morgan,  you 
ast  him  if  he  did  n't  cuss  and  damn 
me,  and  say  he  was  goin'  to  pound 

343 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


me  to  death  if  I  ever  come  north  of 
Sixth." 

To  which  the  leader  of  the  raid 
ers  returned  in  great  scorn  :  "  The 
very  idea !  Just  listen  at  that ! 
Why,  Miss  Morgan,  that  Perkins 
boy  is  the  bully  of  this  town.  Come 
on,  Willie,  your  pa  will  see  if  there 
is  no  law  to  protect  you  from  such 
boys  as  him."  Whereupon  the  war 
party  faced  about,  and  walked  down 
the  sidewalk  and  away. 

Miss  Morgan  and  Bud  watched 
the  North  End  woman  and  her  son 
depart.  Miss  Morgan  turned  to 
Bud,  and  spoke  spiritedly :  "  Now, 
Henry,  don't  ever  have  anything  to 
do  with  that  kind  of  trash  again. 
Now,  you  won't  forget,  will  you, 
Henry  ? " 

Bud  examined  his  toes  carefully, 
and  replied,  "  No  'm." 
344 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

In  the  threshold  she  put  her  hand 
on  the  boy's  shoulder,  and  contin 
ued:  "Now,  don't  you  mind  about 
it,  Henry.  They  sha'n't  touch  you. 
You  come  and  wash,  and  we  '11  have 
supper." 

When  a  boy  has  a  woman  for  a 
champion,  if  he  is  wise,  he  trusts  her 
to  any  length.  So  Bud  went  to  the 
kitchen,  picked  up  the  water-bucket, 
and  went  to  the  well,  partly  to  keep 
from  displaying  a  gathering  wave  of 
affection  for  his  foster-mother,  and 
partly  to  let  the  magnificence  of  the 
wood-box  burst  upon  her  in  his  ab 
sence.  When  he  returned,  he  found 
Miss  Morgan  pointing  toward  the 
wood-box  and  beaming  upon  him. 
Bud  grinned,  and  fished  in  his  pocket 
for  the  coin. 

"Here  's  a  dollar  I  got  for  ridin' 
the  trick  mule,"  he  faltered.  "  I 
345 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


thought  it  would  be  nice  for  the 
missionary  society."  That  he  might 
check  any  weak  feminine  emotions, 
he  turned  his  attention  to  the  supper- 
table,  and  blurted:  "Gee,  we're 
goin*  to  have  pie,  ain't  we  ?  I  tell 
you,  I  'm  mighty  pie  hungry." 

The  glow  of  Miss  Morgan's 
melted  heart  shone  upon  her  face. 
Through  a  seraphic  smile  she  spoke  : 
"  It 's  apple  pie,  too,  Henry  —  your 
kind."  As  she  put  the  supper  upon 
the  table,  she  asked :  "  Did  you 
have  a  good  time  at  the  circus, 
Henry  ? " 

The  boy  nodded  vehemently,  and 
said :  "  You  bet  !  "  and  then  went 
on,  after  a  pause,  "  I  guess  I  tore 
my  pants  a  little  gettin'  off  of  that 
mule ;  but  I  thought  you  'd  like  the 
dollar." 

It  was  the  finest  speech  he  could 
346 


Much  Pomp  and  Several  Circumstances 

make.  "  I  guess  I  can  mend  them, 
Henry,"  she  answered  ;  and  then  she 
asked,  with  her  face  in  the  cup 
board,  "  Sha'n't  we  try  some  of  the 
new  strawberry  preserves,  Henry  ?  " 
As  she  was  opening  the  jar  she 
concluded  that  Henry  Perkins  was 
an  angel  —  a  conclusion  which,  in 
view  of  the  well-known  facts,  was 
manifestly  absurd. 


347 


"THE   HERB   CALLED   HEARTS 
EASE" 


"The  Herb  called  Hearts- 
Ease" 

Did  you  hear  him  ?  I  dare  say  that  boy 
lives  a  merrier  life  and  wears  more  of  the  herb 
called  hearts-ease  in  his  bosom  than  he  that  is 
clad  in  silk  and  velvet.  —  From  the  Observa 
tions  of  "  Mr.  Great  Heart." 

IT    was    dusk    in    Boyville.     The 
boys   at    a    game    of  hide-and- 
seek  filled  the  air  with   their  calls: 

"  Bushel  of  wheat,  and  a 

Bushel  of  rye  — 
All  t'  ain't  ready 

Holler  aye. 

All  in  ten  feet  of  my  base  is  caught :    All 
eyes  open." 

Or 

"One  —  two  —  three  for  me." 

Or 

"  All 's  out 's  in  free." 


"The  Herb  called  Hearts-Ease" 

Among  the  trees  they  scampered  ; 
into  hay-stacks  they  wormed  ;  over 
barrels  and  boxes  they  wiggled ; 
they  huddled  under  the  sunflowers 
and  the  horse-weeds.  It  was  a 
5oyal  game,  but  as  the  moon  rose 
it  merged  into  pull-away.  That 
game  flourished  for  a  while  and 
transformed  itself  by  an  almost  im 
perceptible  evolution  into  a  series 
of  races  down  the  dusty  road.  But 
when  the  moon's  silver  had  marked 
itself  upon  the  grass,  the  boys  were 
lying  prone  on  a  hay-cock  behind 
the  royal  castle.  They  chattered 
idly,  and  the  murmur  of  their  talk 
rose  on  the  just-felt  breeze  that 
greets  the  rising  moon,  like  the 
ripple  of  waters.  But  the  chatter 
was  only  a  seeming.  For  in  truth 
the  boys  were  absorbing  the  glory 
of  the  moonlight.  And  the  under- 
352 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


tones  of  their  being  were  sounding 
in  unison  with  the  gentle  music  of 
the  hour.  Their  souls  —  fresher 
from  God  than  are  the  souls  of 
men  —  were  a-quiver  with  joy,  and 
their  lips  babbled  to  hide  their  ec 
stasies.  In  Boyville  it  is  a  shameful 
thing  to  flaunt  the  secrets  of  the 
heart.  As  the  night  deepened,  and 
the  shy  stars  peeped  at  the  bold 
moon,  the  boys  let  their  prattle  ebb 
into  silence.  Long  they  lay  look 
ing  upward  —  with  the  impulse  in 
their  souls  that  prompted  the  eter 
nal  question  that  Adam  left  un 
answered,  that  David  cried  in 
passion  across  his  harp,  that  the 
wise  men  of  the  world  have  left 
locked  in  mystery  —  the  question 
of  the  Whence,  the  Why,  and  the 
Whither. 

As  the  moon  climbed  high   into 
353 


"  The  Herb  called  Hearts-Ease  " 

the  arc  of  the  Heavens,  the  com 
pany  upon  the  hay-cock  dispersed, 
one  by  one,  till  a  solitary  boy 
remained. 

After  he  had  gazed  at  the  moon 
awhile  a  thrill  of  sheer  madness 
set  him  to  tumbling,  head  over 
heels,  upon  the  fresh  hay.  Life 
was  full  of  gladness  for  him,  and 
his  throat  cramped  with  a  delicious 
longing  for  he  knew  not  what.  He 
wondered  vaguely  if  it  were  not 
something  new  and  unimaginably 
good  to  eat.  It  was  the  nearest  he 
~ould  come  to  a  defining  of  the 
longing.  Of  course  no  one  can 
define  it.  It  is  that  which  quickens 
the  blood  of  all  young  creatures  — 
the  rosebud,  the  meadow-lark,  the 
dragon-fly,  the  colt,  the  boy  and 
the  maiden,  bidding  them  glorify 
God  with  the  show  and  the  example 
354 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


of  their  comeliness.  The  boy  rose 
from  the  hay  and  skipped  under 
the  trees,  over  the  fantastic  figures 
of  the  moon-spun  carpet.  He  waved 
his  arms,  and  there  came  to  his 
throat  a  simple  song,  which  he 
chanted  croakingly,  lest  some  one 
should  hear  him  and  laugh.  He 
stopped,  and  sitting  on  a  fence 
looked  at  a  great  white  cloud 
that  was  mounting  the  western  sky. 
His  soul  was  listening  to  the  far 
away  music  from  the  breakers 
of  the  restless  rising  sea  of  am 
bition,  and  the  rush  of  life  and 
action,  that  were  flooding  into 
the  distant  rim  of  his  conscious 
ness.  The  music  charmed  him. 
Tears  came  to  his  eyes,  he  knew 
not  why.  But  we,  whom  this 
mighty  tide  has  carried  away 
from,  that  bourne  whereon  the 


"The  Herb  called  Hearts-Ease" 

boy's  feet  strayed  so  happily  —  we 
know  why  the  far-seeing  angels 
gave  him  tears. 

A  dog  in  some  distant  farm-yard 
was  baying  at  the  moon.  A  whin 
ing  screech  owl  sent  a  faint  shudder 
of  superstitious  fear  over  the  boy. 
For  a  long  time  he  sat  on  the  fence 
absorbing  the  night  sounds  —  the 
claque  of  the  frogs,  the  burring  of 
the  crickets,  the  hum  of  the  water 
on  the  mill-dam  far  down  the  valley, 
and  the  occasional  call  of  some 
human  voice,  ringing  like  a  golden 
bell  in  the  hush  of  the  night.  It 
was  after  nine  and  the  boy  was 
deep  in  his  trackless  revery.  A 
woman  called,  — 

"  Win-nee,  Win-nee,  oh,  Winnie." 
The  spell  upon  him  was   almost 
too     delicious     to    break  ;     but     he 
roused  himself  to  reply,  — 
356 


The  Court  of  Boyville 


"  Yessum.      All  right." 

Then  the  mother's  voice  continued : 
"  Now  wash  your  feet,  Winnie,  and 
wipe  'em  dry ;  don't  come  to  bed 
with  dirty  feet." 

Slowly  the  boy  climbed  to  the 
earth.  He  shuffled  through  dew, 
but  his  feet  were  still  too  dirty. 
He  stood  in  the  tub  of  water 
by  the  pump,  rubbing  one  foot 
with  the  other,  and  his  eyes 
turned  moonward.  The  thrall  of 
the  night  caught  him  again.  In  a 
hazy  stupor  he  sat  on  the  kitchen 
step  drying  his  feet.  When  he  got 
up,  Piggy  Pennington  gazed  for  a 
moment  at  a  star  —  a  pale  star 
which  hovered  timidly  over  the 
chimney  of  the  home  which  shel 
tered  his  Heart's  Desire.  With  the 

H 

lunacy  upon  him,   he    flung  to    the 
star  a  bashful  kiss.      Then  he  grinned 

357 


"  The  Herb  called  Hearts-Ease  " 

foolishly  and  came  to  himself  with 
a  grunt,  as  he  ran  up  stairs  to  his 
room.  He  was  ashamed  to  face 
the  south  breeze  that  fanned  his 
bed. 


35* 


RETURN  TO  mcM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 


Renewed  books  are  subject  t 


recall. 


APR091989 


MJTO  DISC 


LD  21A-50m-ll,'6i 
(D3279slO)476B 


General  Library     . 
University  of  California 
Berkeley 


VD 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


